The Light Aboveground
by Amanthya
Summary: The story behind how Jareth came to know of & fall in love w/ Sarah, & her mother's bargain that almost cost her child. After Sarah leaves the Underground, Jareth calls in her mother's debt, & she begs Sarah, who once defeated him, to help. Discontinued.
1. Prologue

_After her adventures in the Underground, the one thing Sarah always wondered is how she came to possess a book that told her own story--in advance of her having lived it. Well, that and why exactly the Goblin King came to love her, how he even knew about her. Questions she never expects to have answered, until her mother's debt to the Goblin King is called in, and she pleads for Sarah's help. What does she owe the Fae ruler of the nightmarish realm, and how does it involve Sarah?_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Labyrinth the movie or the book, or any of the charatcers, etc. and if I did I would have made sure to make an awesome sequel movie in which Sarah and Jareth hooked up. Sadly...once again...I do not own them. And I make no profit off any fiction about them. WHAT I DO OWN is my plot idea, and any original characters I fill up the plot with. Don't steal them, or borrow without permission, as it's very easy to ask me, being that I am more available and have more time on my hands then Mr.s Jim Henson and George Lucas for such questions.  
_

** Prologue: **

Linda Avery was a free spirit, a wild tiger lily. She could not be tamed. Not that many tried; they did, however, try to absorb some of her zest for life into themselves by nearly suffocating her with their presence.

Not Daniel Williams, though. His shy, sweet air opened like a sunflower around her, reflecting her light but not stealing it for himself. His glow made her realize how much she herself lit up the world around her, and for that she loved him.

She was an actress, destined to be famous, her name in lights, well known on Broadway. She was skilled, and alluring in her seeming innocence, and people were drawn to her, like Daniel. But he was the only one she consented to marry. They had a little girl, whom she named Sarah, because the baby was gentle, and Sarah was a gentle name. Linda had always hated her name, but "Sarah" was softly romantic, and light on the tongue. Appropriate.

Of course, her nature never changed. Linda was also selfish, albeit adorably so. The call of the glamorous life of an actress was a stronger lure than motherhood, and she was gone frequently to parties, either after a show or to make herself known for a new one. Never mind the schedule of a show in production. And so it was, six unhappy years after Sarah's birth that Daniel gave up his hope for their household to ever be a happy one. Linda was simply not willing to spend any time with the people who's affections she already had--her family. It was time to cut the ties.

Sarah would take it hard. She worshipped her beautiful mother, with her shining cascade of dark hair, wide dark eyes, delicate cheekbones and angelic features. Her mother was slim and gently curved in all the right places, as pretty as a woman in her first flush of youth. A fairy tale princess, and Sarah would forgive her anything, even missing every one of the little girl's birthdays. All Linda had to do was laugh and tell her that darling, she had longed to be there so very much for her precious one, but the world had gotten between them. Sarah didn't understand exactly what that meant, but she figured in her childish mind that some big bad person wearing a shirt that said "world" on it had impeded her mother and made her late. It was never considered by the six year old that she wasn't high enough on her mother's social calendar to warrant timeliness.

But enough was enough for Daniel. No more of this flightiness in Sarah's life. She needed a better mother-figure. Little did he know the Linda herself would provide access to such a woman--in her own unassuming, selfish way, of course.

For Linda, for all her gaiety, was feeling the strain. She knew better than anyone what time it took to raise a family, and even going about it halfway it stole her away from the stage. She never should have married, never should have been careless enough to become pregnant. All her good years would go to some child who'd never appreciate it, until she was too old for anything but to be passed up for the leading roles in favor of fresher faces. It was time to cut the ties.

She knew the old wives-tale, passed on from her gypsy mother, whom she hadn't spoken to since she'd run away at age fifteen. It was another dark fantasy of an ancient inhuman creature whose ways were not that of mankind, and whom mankind had forgotten existed, and largely lost touch with. But not all had forgotten. The Goblin King, an ageless being, among others, took children. Only, he waited for an invitation, and would give the wishers a chance to repent of hastily wishing away nuisance children. It was not that he stole their youth, or ate them. He merely played a game, watching the runners through his immense labyrinth trying desperately to reach the castle at the center to retrieve their children in the set time limit--or they were his playthings for all time to do with as he wished.

Linda, who had forsaken her birth name but could not undo her childhood, halfway believed in it, and had never uttered the words to summon him. But one day while Daniel had left her at home with Sarah, and Sarah was crying for something Linda could not seem to produce for her, she muttered in exasperation. "Dreadful child! I wish the goblins really would come and take you away, right now!" And though it was a sunlit day, her living room went dark, but for a spot in the air where a white owl sailed in from nowhere, and goblins had grabbed at her ankles and seized the crying Sarah, and she screamed for herself, forgetting her child for the moment.

"As you have wished it, my dear," came a level voice, and she looked up as her lamp lights flickered and remained on at half their usual lamination. Or was that a light produced by the figure himself? For it was a man who stood before her, dressed in dark loose clothing, with hair that was long and blonde, and wildly spiked in the front. His eyes seemed to glitter, and after staring at him a moment her natural composure reasserted itself enough for her to realize the very air around him danced with motes of sparkling color.

"Who-who are you?" she stuttered.

He raised a brow and gazed scornfully down at her, and uttered one word--her true name. "And you whose people have always known me? Why do you ask what you already know?"

"Then-you're here to take away Sarah?" she managed, still half certain this was a hallucination. But her name, he knew her name...

"Will you test your wits against mine, little gypsy child? Or have you forgotten how to brave all unearthly?" he sneered. "You have no connection any more to the hidden truths of the world--of any world. Do you think you would win?" he asked, titling his head as if the question was of no importance. And to him, it was not.

Linda was a self-centered creature, but not entirely heartless. And she knew she would never win against the King, and his labyrinth. She had neither the courage, nor the ingenuity, or her mother's instinct. But she could spin words into spell of its own, and tried her only gift left at the moment.

"You know I would be no sport to you yourself. And against your labyrinth, I might well recall enough of the old ways to defeat it."

"Should you?" he asked lazily, unimpressed.

She forged on."But the child--she is the last of a line that believes in magic, and so has access to her dreams. And she knows nothing of you, has no knowledge of the arcane with which to cheat her way to victory. She is a true contestant!"

He looked mildly astonish for the briefest moment, his brows flicking up a millimeter. "You would set your own child to run my labyrinth--to free yourself from your debt?" His lips curved in a wicked smile, his tone mocking.

"Not now...but in a few years time she would surely beat you. She's bright--too bright, even." Linda caught herself shrugging. She knew enough of her own child to bargain with. "And she has a gift unmatched by any other I know."

He watched her with interest, as if she weaved her own net around herself. "And that is?"

She raised her chin a bit. "Luck."

His eyes darkened at once. Luck, the gift given by the bright one, who lived in the air and gave people all hope. The one who could not be touched, because no one knew its name to command it, nor could they harm a body it did not have. It was unknowingly revered by some mortals, and it cheated darkness and death out of their rightful prey.

Sometimes, one would be found that could do no wrong, with had a golden touch and never once was caught by the grip of evil. For some unknown reason this person was highly favored, especially if they were born to unfortunate circumstances. The bright one, glowing in unearthly light when seen by immortal eyes, seemed to enjoy flaunting its power.

But more often it was hard to find the favored one, for their luck was of the hidden kind≈they might miss a bus, and later find out it had been in an accident. Or they might forget something at home and run back it, and later find out they had evaded being the victim of some hideous crime such as a gas station robbery and murder. That kind of fortune was difficult to spot, when at first glance all that was seen was that the person missed an interview or lost their wallet--as might anyone else.

But oh, how some enjoyed killing the favored one. Especially the Goblin King, who had some much time to spend in between labyrinths that he took pleasure in seeking out those mortals the bright one so loved, in order to get back at it for stealing his pleasure. For a runner to win not because of their own merit, but because of blasted "good luck" frustrated him to no end!

"Bring me the child!" he demanded, and a group of diminutive, swarthy goblins carried the poor girl over. She had fainted. He grabbed her out of their hands, one clenched fist holding her up by the front of her pink shirt. Her held fell back but his rough treatment awoke her, and she straightened as much as she could, blinking blearily at his face. Her eyes went wide and her face pale, but his eyes were so dangerously frightening that she could not find her voice to yell.

'Her eyes, her eyes sparkle with the unnatural light of a favored one!' For they did; everyone remarked at what pretty, shining eyes the little girl had, especially when she laughed. But only an immortal could truly see the real glow, the light of a mortal touched at birth by a supernatural being.

Still...the light was not as bright as he'd expected. Could it be she was not chosen as the most-loved one, but was merely only somewhat special? Then, there could be a more special child out there, now ten years after the last favored one had been killed. This child could be a decoy. Or merely too young to glow as bright as the last and older one. The bright one liked to play games as well. This could be a trick.

Linda stood staring at him, only partially aware of what might be going on. Her mother always said that luck was given by the gods, but it had never occurred to her that not all "gods" were happy about this. She'd had no way of knowing the effect of her words, and her argument was only half-finished, never to be continued.

'I must watch her. The bright one could believe I'll leave her be, with such a dim light in her eyes. But I will keep an eye on this girl.'

He set her feet back to the floor and she ran trembling behind her mother. But she peeked out at him.

"I will strike a bargain with you, Linda," he said silkily. Her breath huffed out in shock. "Your daughter will run the labyrinth--in ten years time, when she is at the edge of childish belief and adult ability. But if she loses, I will keep you in her stead."

"And if she wins?" Linda was quick to ask, accepting her daughter's risk in her place.

He smiled cruelly. "If she wins..." he mused softly. Suddenly his gloved hand flicked out, as if summoning something--a crystal appeared on his wrist and turned his hand about so that it rolled in a perfect path across his palm and the back of his hand. "Do you know what this is?" he asked so quietly she strained to hear him. Her gaze was caught by the traveling jewel, as any mortal's will, filled with innate greed. She shook her head.

He smiled to himself, watching his own actions. "These are your dreams, Linda. Your most prized possessions. Do you want them?"

"Ye-yes!" she burst out before she could help it. "I mean--I wonder at what cost. I have no other child to offer."

"Selfish woman...betraying your flesh and blood is surely a sin?" he mocked her, knowing full well she wasn't faithful to the pretty cross she wore, given to her by her husband. She had no answer, her hand going to her throat.

"If the child wins...I will let her free, having earned her freedom. But I will take back your dreams and you will have to seek them out┘and the castle in the center of the Labyrinth."

"But! That's not fair!" she cried. "If Sarah wins, we are to be left alone!"

"If you want to play by the rules that win you freedom from my attention," he purred, flicking the crystal into the air, where it vanished, "then perhaps you should enter the Labyrinth yourself?"

"And...if I don't?" she asked hesitantly, feeling her silent daughter clutching her dress unaware of anything save that a Scary Man was in their living room and she wanted him to leave with his little ugly friends. Sarah stared unhappily at the tall Fae.

"Then I will take away the glamour that your mother stole from a fairy for you...the fairies are my creatures, and her theft was truly from me." His smile was malicious and knowing; in a flash she remembered that she had been a strangely ugly child until her third birthday, when she had ⌠grown out of■ her bad looks into the rare beauty she was today.

'That's not fair!' She glared down at her daughter, who had inherited her coloring but was secure in her loveliness, having been born to it.

"He knew! He knew all along! He was merely waiting to play on my fears, waiting to...to be bored enough, and for me to think myself safe...!'

There was no way she would get out of the fix she was in. He could have come at any time to reclaim his stolen magic, but he had waited until she was at the height of her mortal glory in her beauty-obsessed career field to taunt her with taking it all. He might punish her mother for her actions--but it was Linda that would pay the daily price. She would never achieve her dreams without her beauty.

She took a deep breath and drew herself up as tall as she could, trying to reclaim her dignity. It was useless but made her feel a bit more in control of herself. "All right. Sarah will run the labyrinth in ten years. If she wins, then...when must I run it?" For she fully intended to debrief her daughter as soon as she won, in order to cheat--forgetting that she was to abandon her family as soon as the papers for divorce could be filed.

The King merely shrugged slightly. "Whenever I desire you to. I shall save your humiliation for when I am truly pressed for entertainment."

If it had been anyone else...but she wisely kept her mouth shut.

Suddenly he gazed down at little Sarah. "Sarah," he said softly, "come here." His tone was insistent, and the little girl stood trembling for a moment before walking slowly, seemingly unwillingly, to stand before him. He looked down upon her smugly, and passed his palms in across one another in air, horizontally, and a book flashed in existence between them. He bade her reach up, and placed it in her hand. He looked up at Linda. "There must be rules," he said easily, "in order to determine when she has really lost."

"What is that?" Linda asked in a timid voice, wondering if she could use the book to her advantage. But the Goblin King saw through her act.

"Now, Linda, this is not for you. It is for Sarah, loved by the Goblin King Jareth," he admonished, waving his forefinger at her like any mortal.

"Loved?" Linda blurted out in frank amazement, briefly gasping at him. Sarah opened the book with interest, forgetting her fear.

He smirked. "So she shall believe. All stories must have a beginning, and I think you should not like me to tell her the truth?" She flushed slightly.

"Sarah will believe what the book tells her. But all else, until the time is right for each of you, you will...forget," he breathed, and at the last word the woman and girl passed out and fell to the floor. He waved a hand and they were moved by the goblins, silent but fidgeting all this time in the dark corners, to the couch, rearranged as if they'd fallen asleep--Sarah with her new book under her arm.

He took once last look at Linda, knowing she was an unworthy foe. But the girl...she was of unknown skill and strength of mind. And there was the matter of her luck. As he scrutinized his future runner, a hint of doubt crept in. He immediately banished it and departed back to his kingdom.

He would have done well to heed the voice of warning. For Sarah's luck operated at all times, in the most unexpected ways, serving to foil her enemies, known or not. In the very beginning it sought to level the playing field for her in the simplest way possible...and cultivated in her unusual natural beauty, a deep imagination and a pure soul despite her youthfully selfish heart. Her eyes never ceased to glow, and captivate everyone around her but the most bitterly stubborn mortals, who closed their hearts' eyes to it.

But an immortal can do no such thing--the truth is the truth, and they cannot miss seeing it merely because they did not like it. And so, as he carefully watched Sarah for signs of true favor, the Goblin King really did fall in love with the girl, and grant her special powers, though he didn't realize what he had done to thwart himself. He knew gave her power over her own destiny by means of supplying her with the words to escape, and all she had to do was mean them wholeheartedly, as simple as that. If she did, he could not stop her, could never bother her again without due cause, which frustrated him. He could not simple invent another game in which to ensnare her; he had to await her summons, which would not come.

But more crucially, he also gave her power over himself. And for a mortal to hold sway over a Fae's heart is more dangerous than anything, for nothing is more capricious than an immortal unbound by time, than a mortal that is.

Fortunately, Sarah did not know this latter truth when she met Jareth for the second time, and even if she had she would never have abused it in any way, not being that sort of person.

It was only when she met him for the third time, drawn by her adored mother's plea for assistance, that she began to question the truths in her book--much to his mixture of dismay and delight; for how would the race end this time? Only Time would tell...

A/N: Please review, and let me know what you think of the idea. This is my first time writing a Labby fic--though I've certainly read a lot of them!--and any advice is welcome. Seriously, I will thank you and say other nice things to you if you post some kind words and/or constructive criticism. Flames will be ignored. If you're going through the trouble to write out a page-long comment on why my fics sucks, you seriously need a life, 'cause you could be using that time to read fics more suited to your taste while just ignoring mine.

P.S. I went back and edited this to make Sarah 16 originally, b/c though I think she was actually 14 or 15, when I thought about it...that's just creepy. And many seem to be unsure of her actual age, but if she's old enough to date, she's got to be at least 15, likely 16. Anyway, makes Jareth's interest less...well, again, creepy.


	2. Chapter One

The Light Aboveground

**Chapter One**

It was bright and crisp on a Tuesday late-morning, and she didn't have class today. She'd imagined a free day, well enough, but it was even better to receive an eagerly-welcomed phone call from someone dear, even if it meant listening to that someone vent.

Sarah nodded, though her mother could not see her over the phone, in sympathy over her latest break-up with Jeremy—one-time co-star, forever off-and-on lover. She liked the sound of having a "lover" though she never believed she would herself. No, she could not imagine ever having anything except a boyfriend and maybe later, husband. It was unusual for her imagination to fail her in any way, but ever since her run-in many years ago with…that man…she couldn't stand exoticism in men. Nothing fancy, or mysterious, thank you. It was as shame, because she'd always wanted to date a rebel, a bad boy, but though ordinary men unfailingly ended up boring her, she couldn't bring herself to get into a romantic misadventure.

'The last time I did,' she thought, 'I almost lost my brother to a fantastical King trying to mess with my head for fun.'

She had turned down both serious offers and some made in jest over the last few years, and had been called everything from a coward, to ice maiden, to a tease. Perhaps she was a bit of a tease…but then, she couldn't help it that she got interested in someone, only to be disappointed in whom the guy really was once the novelty wore off.

In some ways, this was more frustrating than not having instantly achieved her dreams that cool night in a broken castle. Twenty now, and with no romantic prospects, when she'd always believed she'd be married as soon as it was legal to a prince charming.

'But once you've had the attention of a king, a prince isn't so interesting…stop that!' she told herself. 'It isn't good to be so vain. Besides, he was evil.'

With a start, she realized she'd been ignoring her mother.

"Men are just so…so…" Linda was saying in utter aggravation. In the next moment, she reverted to her usual calm and collected manner. "But he'll be back. He'll get tired of the pouty looks and wide-eyed innocence, and remember what he's got in me. Experience does count for something, you know."

Sarah tried not to think of exactly what sort of experience her mother was talking about. Her stepmother, Karen, had been heard to say snippily that acting experience wasn't the only kind Linda was wont to boast about. But Sarah put that down as jealousy of Linda's stunning beauty, seeming as Sarah's sister instead of mother. Surely her mother meant life experience. She clung to that thought; she could never think of her mother as a whore, only as the social butterfly who charmed everyone. What did Karen know, anyway? Sure she was nicer now, in response to Sarah's effort at peace, but still…

"Sarah, are you listening?" Linda interrupted her thoughts. "Perhaps you can let me know when a good time to talk is?" she huffed brusquely.

"No, Mother, I'm sorry. I was distracted," she apologized.

"By what?" her mother demanded suspiciously. What was more important than her right now, gracing Sarah's ears with her voice?

Sarah cast her eye around her room—she still lived with her parents while she attended the local college, in order to save money—but there was nothing there she could say she'd been surprised by. Everything was utterly familiar, and she hated to lie.

"Well," she began hesitantly, and then babbled quickly in an attempt to cover. After a full minute of talking aimlessly, she awaited Linda's frosty words to come forth, melting into a wounded tone before she would laugh, as always, and tease Sarah that it was nothing. She was incredibly mercurial.

But there was nothing but silence on the other end of the line. "Mother?" Sarah said softly, nervous tension making her chest tighten up. She turned the mouthpiece of the phone away and sighed, shoulders slumping, and as she was on her bed, lay down on it on her stomach, waiting for Linda to decide to talk to her.

When there came no other sound, not even of breathing, after five minutes—but neither was there a "click" to let Sarah know her mother had hung up on her—she began to worry. Linda never left her hanging. Sarah's vaunted imagination began to run away with her as she finally heard, "If you would like to make a call…" in a feminine computerized voice. She clicked "off" on the cordless and dropped it the few inches to the floor.

'This is so unsettling,' was the closest she'd ever come to complaining about her mother. Perhaps Linda had intended to be silent long enough to teach her a lesson, and had been distracted herself by someone or something—Jeremy himself, even, returning home. It had happened before, and Linda would call back a day or two later to apologize magnificently.

But still…Sarah went down to eat brunch with a frown on her face. It took an hour, strawberry ice cream, and her best friend Erin to distract her. That, and the promise of pooling their money for tickets to a long awaited premiere of latest movie starring the hottest actor in Hollywood.

"We'll eat bad movie-stadium popcorn and smuggle in our own candy," Erin promised.

"We'll never fit into any of our costumes again," Sarah warned, take a bite of her ice cream and wincing as her teeth began to ache.  
.  
.

"Sarah! Are you ignoring me again?!" Linda asked incredulously. Twice in so many minutes? Unheard of in anyone, much less her daughter. "Well, I won't speak to you again, young lady!"

"You may not, in any case," an amused voice sounded behind her.

She dropped the phone and whirled around to stare fearfully around her spacious living room. The TV was off, as was the stereo, the French doors at the other end were still securely shut. She glanced to her left; no one stood in her hallway. No one had broken through the window at her right. She pushed off cautiously from the dining room table, which she had been leaning against. It was dark early this evening, yes, but she saw no one…

"Aaaahhhh!" she screamed as she noticed an owl perched high up on her tall antique grandfather's clock against the right wall's secondary window. It took flight and she ran down the hallway for her bedroom—and its many locks on the door—at the end of it. She never made it, tripping on the book she'd thrown at Jeremy as he was leaving, and landed painfully on her arm, face down. Her body froze.

"So frightened," a gently mocking voice chided her. "You know instinctively who it is here with you. And yet, you try to flee."

She shivered; eyes clenched shut, tears forming at the corners. '"Please no…"

'Not now! Don't take away my beauty! It's all I have left!'

As if reading her mind—though really, it was her body language combined with his previous work spying on her—he laughed. "Now is a ripe time to come for what is rightfully mine, Linda. Now you will fight for it, more fiercely than for your own life. Get up, mortal."

Her body responded to his commands, though her mind did not. The stolen magic in her very skin responded to him. She was turned to face him, but did not open her eyes. She tried to speak.

"Why-why now?"

"Now is exactly the time," he said. A flash of light she saw even through her eyelids, as one saw sunlight, caused her to open them. He spun three crystals around in a circle in his palm, rotating his fingers. He chose one with his other hand and held it up. She gazed into it, and saw at first his distorted reflection, the same wild hair she suddenly remembered as if he'd been here but yesterday, the same seeming silken black clothes, the same air of taunting malice.

Then she saw a scene dissolved into being, a fade-out in reverse. Herself. Jeremy leaving, and his cruel words in the heat of an argument.

"Now," Jareth said softly, startling her—she'd forgotten him, washed anew in her hurt—"now you have nothing else. Your money is all but gone. Your opportunities failing. You family…you have no family."

"I have Sarah," she interjected quickly. He clenched his fist around the single crystal and it disappeared like a soap-bubble.

"Ah, Sarah," he murmured, lashes lowing to cover his eyes, his emotions, if he had any. He picked up another crystal, and it began to show Sarah, laughing with a friend Linda did not know. "Sarah is secure in her beauty, her family, her life. She has a future in your very profession…but she will succeed beyond your wildest dreams. And you…will live your worst nightmares, every time you look in the mirror." He smiled, the second sphere vanishing, as if that delighted him.

"You can't be happy she beat you!" she said forcefully, before she remembered herself, and her position as victim, not equal.

His smile disappeared as quickly as if he'd magic-ed it away with the second crystal. "Linda, beware. I have been generous to you, allowing you to bask in ill-gotten glory. But remember, I am above all a cruel being."

She said nothing.

He toyed with the last crystal, made as if to toss it at her, capture her, but instead he lowered his arm. "Shall we begin another game?"

"I…" her forehead wrinkled as her brows drew together. "Aren't we...in one?"

"I know your destiny," he said contemptuously. "It does not amuse me. But your skill is real, and your daughter's devotion as unconditional as it is undeserved. She is a more…challenging opponent."

'I'll say,' she thought in a brief moment of maternal pride. It passed as she processed the insult.

"Convince Sarah to help you reclaim your soul."

She gasped, her hands flying to her chest as if he sought to suck it out that very moment. "You can't! I'll be damned for all eternity!" Her natural flare brought an impressive sincerity to her words. It helped that he had really frightened her.

He snorted. "You are as you are, Linda Williams. Consider my offer a chance to enjoy what's left to you—the rest of this life." At her obvious bewilderment, he explained more fully. "You will tell Sarah I have imprisoned a portion of your soul, in exchange for her safety from my revenge. You summoned me yourself by gypsy spells, after hearing of her strange tale from your father, and feared for her life, knowing her story to be true. And that if you run the Labyrinth and reclaim it before the other half fades away I will forever renounce my claim to revenge on any of your family. But if you lose I will keep your half-soul tortured forever in a Timeless land, bound to an ugly useless form, hated savagely by all others."

"If…if she wins?"

"If she wins," he tossed the remaining jewel into the air, catching it and throwing it again. "Then you will indeed be free of me, and you will be more beautiful than before, ageing as no other, ever sought after, ever desired. But if she loses…" He closed his fist. "I will take your glamour and Sarah herself. And your betrayed will haunt Daniel every night in his dreams until he is half-mad with knowing it."

She wasn't proud to admit, even to herself, that losing Sarah was and always had been an acceptable risk. But to think of losing Daniel's adoration—she had always wanted his adoration, even after she tired of his love. His admiration was pure, and even now—to the annoyance of his wife, surely—he spoke highly of her talent, drive, beauty. Her supposedly pure heart. Even her charming wild ways.

No one knew the ugliness inside. 'No one knows what it is to have everyone looking at you, expecting you to please them as naturally as breathing, and you must always be better than before.'

She took a deep breath and nodded. "I…I will get her—"

"No need," he said gallantly, as if offering her an umbrella. He dropped the crystal at her feet and when she opened her eyes again she was at the side of her sleeping daughter's bed. She jumped at a clanging; the downstairs clock striking midnight.

_A/N: She's not a very nice person, is she? Got them all fooled. Sorry if it's a bit slow in the beginning. It's necessary to establish Linda's character fully, and Sarah's view of her, as well as of men. Things will pick up soon, I promise!_

_To my reviewers (can't believe I already have some! Yay!):_

_Annependragon—thank you! I was watching the Labyrinth and saw Sarah's scrapbook, and suddenly thought, I wonder if it was her mother who gave her the book, and what sort of person she must be—would she have wished Sarah away herself and why?_

_CoffeeKris—the Fae may be ageless, but still, 15 is 15. But here I think the problem is solved nicely; Sarah is twenty. Glad you like it so far._

_WE'VE STARTED A TREND—thanks very much! You have made me very happy!  
_

_FaeriesMidwife—those are some of the best words an author here can hear, as it's hard to find an original plot idea any more, especially when the author reads so much fanfiction herself! Thanks much._

_EClaire W—I'm glad you like it! Too many fics make Jareth sappy in his love for Sarah—I've had thought it would annoy him to have such a mortal weakness, not being used to it. Thank for your kind words._

_Rahpsody—thank you. Sorry it was a bit confusing, hope it gets easier to understand._

_AvitarGirl—thank you! Here's your update!_

_Notwritten—I shall certainly try to keep the quality up there for you, and I will keep smiling at such nice reviews! Thanks!_


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

Linda gazed down at her daughter's shadowed face, half-concealed by her hair, bits of stage glitter on her face picking up the black light from her clock, made into the shape of a gorgeous ebony-haired china fairy holding a full moon with roman numerals, with a tiny frosted-flame lamp at her feet. It had been a much belated birthday gift from Linda five years ago and occupied a prized position on her bedside table.

Now, the glow seemed eerie, reminding Linda that she dabbled in unearthly things. She gathered herself, mentally, and reached out a hand to shake her daughter gently but insistently, until one eye opened.

"Sarah?"

Both eyes flew open and she sprang up in bed, the covers falling to her lap. "Mother?" Sarah gasped, startled, her hand at her chest over her heart. "Is this a dream?" she asked, seeming like a little girl in her cloud-covered pajama set.

"No, Sarah. This is real, and my news urgent," she whispered to her. "There's been a price put on your safety."

Sarah's eyes were wide and bewildered, her lips parting soundlessly.

"I need your help, my dear." Linda placed her hand on Sarah's shoulder, looking desperately into her eyes. "Sarah, I know that you went to the Underground." When her daughter did not react other than to twitch under her hand, she continued. "I had the whole story from your father. But unlike him, I was raised with a connection to the earth, to the spirit world, and I know there are unseen forces operating in our very midst. Forces like that of the Goblin King, who has a desire for revenge on the only one who has ever bested him in his own land."

"Wha-what?" Sarah stammered. She did not question her mother's entrance into her room.

Linda kept her words flowing fast, to best take advantage of her daughter's sleepy confusion. "I know his ways, I know that he cannot be trusted!" She raised her whispering voice a bit here, to enforce her point. "I remembered the ways of my mother, a true Gypsy, Sarah, and called upon the very earth itself to protect you from that volatile Fae king."

"Fae?" Sarah repeated, and Linda almost rolled her eyes at the girl's sleep-dulled intellect, until she recalled that Sarah would never have known Jareth's racial origin.

"He is of the Fae people, Sarah, and they are not as cartoons and movies would have them seem—they are dangerous, unpredictable beings. I tried to invoke an ancient protection against all magical beings but I could not cover you with it. I…" her voice faltered, and she let her hand drop, as well as her eyes.

"Mother?" Sarah asked gently, reaching out for her hand, squeezing it gently.

She looked up once more. "I have forsaken the old ways, Sarah. I could not reconnect with them enough to protect you. And what's worse…oh, Sarah!" She pulled away to cover her face with her hands, letting her words be muffled, to better portray deep emotion. "Sarah, my actions attracted the King's attention, and he sought quick revenge on me!"

"What!" Sarah gasped. When Linda peeked through her fingers, she saw her daughter's expression twist angrily. "That's not fair!" she hissed, clenching her hands into fists in her lap, her shoulder s tensing up. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Linda heaved a sigh, letting her arms fall in defeat to her side. "I got in his way. I tried to interfere. He—he took part of my soul." With that, her body shook, and she dropped to her knees wearily.

"How?" Sarah all but yelled, and Linda looked up, wide-eyed, and Sarah, who'd be poised to leap up in indignation, settled herself with an effort back on her bed. "How?" she asked in a quieter voice.

"I don't know…but I felt a coldness plunge into my body…it lingers," she shivered. "I can feel emptiness inside of me…despair. As if half of my heart itself was gone, Sarah. He said if I do not run the labyrinth and reach the center within thirteen hours of entering the Underground, the half of my soul in my body, the part that knows who I am, would fade away forever, leaving me damned. And the other half he would twist for his own amusement, using it to conceal his own emptiness as if he was a human himself, and so gain entrance freely into the mortal realm. He could do it, too, Sarah! He could absorb my half-soul into his own body and do as he wished in our world—without waiting for an invitation from any mortal!" Her words were breathy and high with convincing terror and hopelessness. "And I don't know how I will ever reach the center in time! I've lost the knowledge of the old ways!"

Sarah was silent, her eyes downcast, her forehead wrinkled in furious thought, her body so still it seemed she did not even breathe. Finally she raised her gaze to meet her mother's. "I know. I know the way. Even if it's changed…I'll find it again."

"Sarah…I can't ask you to…you cannot risk yourself. Just tell me how to do it," Linda pleaded, reaching and covering her daughter's hands on her lap with her own.

Sarah pulled her hands away and knelt in front of her, placing her arms around her mother. "I've done it before. It was a piece of cake," she said confidently. "And I can do it again. I'll go with you. How could I not?" she asked softly. "You're my mother."

And so Linda muttered nonsense syllables as if they were an incantation, and one cue, the Goblin King appeared before their united front.  
.  
.

Sarah felt fire leaping into her veins, and she longed to fly at the figure before her, slapping, kicking, and scratching. But she was no fool; she had no desire at all to try and guide her mother through a giant labyrinth in the form of a mute, dim-witted ugly beast for his amusement. So she raised her chin in silent challenge before his mocking eyes.

"Ah, Linda," he said smoothly, "you have sought to surprise me with a replacement soul?"

Sarah felt her mother's shock, heard her outrage in her hissing tone. "I do no such thing! My daughter will help me—of her own free will—and you will be defeated! Again!"

Jareth merely smiled. "If you lose, you know the price."

"If we win, you will leave us be—and all of our family—forever," Sarah demanded.

His strange gaze, one pupil oddly wider than the other, as if to blatantly mark his far-seeing otherworldliness—turned to her indifferently, as if she were nothing but a common sideshow curiosity. "It is not your place to make demands, Sarah."

"It's not your place," she said firmly, trembling inwardly as she stepped over thin ground, "to seek revenge on those who won your own game."

"Is it unfair?" he asked with a trace of a smile appearing briefly on the corner of his lips. He stepped towards her—she felt her mother pull away—but she stood her ground, though the closer he got the more obscured his face was, until he stood in front of the only light in the room as a silhouette. She could barely see his hand reach out, but she certainly felt it connect lightly with her chin, fingers grasping it. She gaped at the affront.

"Your mother created a new game, when she fought to pull magic away from its rightful place in order to protect you—magic from all the worlds, including my own. But she did not master it, and in failing to do so, she was unable to specify how the magic should come to her; that it should not include an invitation to the being whose world's magic was being stolen to intrude upon her spell-casting. She was lucky I was all that came, Sarah," he whispered dangerously, his fingers sliding down her bare neck before pulling away. It was a simple movement, made as if he was merely dropping his arm and letting gravity take it—that her body merely got in the way—but it was both infuriating and shockingly sensual. It made her aware of every inch of her body, and she felt naked in her bra-less sleepwear, glad that she was not the sort to wear lingerie to bed. He had never touched her before but once, lightly grasping one hand and her waist, to dance in a peach-induced dream.

He smiled his slow, wicked smile at the look on her face. "Join your mother, if you will, Sarah. But if she fails, she will pay the price."

"And…I?" she managed.

"You? If you do not help to her succeed, you will two options," he decided. "You can forfeit your soul, and take her place. Or you can leave the Labyrinth—and your mother—forever."

"That's no option!" she said in outrage, clenching her jaw, she was frowning so hard.

He was not concerned by this, it was clear. "You were not meant to run the Labyrinth again. I should not let you; you've beaten it before. If I am to place a runner well-versed in the unsettling irregularity of the Labyrinth's walls and ways, I will do everything in my power to stack the odds against you. I will certainly not reward you for your mother's success; this is her battle, not yours. The only things you are good for is to offer payment of your soul in her stead—and amuse me, until then."

"Sarah?" her father's voice called suddenly, sleepily, through the door. "Are you alright? Do you have your radio on loud again?"

"What will you do, Sarah?" Jareth asked levelly; apparently, her father could not hear him.

"I…I'm fine. Yes, I'll turn the radio down, sorry it woke you," she called back." I love you," she added suddenly, aware she just might not see him again.

"I love you, too," came the response, and silence again from that side of the door.

"I…" she said again, more quietly, "I will go. But let me prepare!"

Jareth smiled again. "You already have prepared, Sarah, more than any other runner; you have already once beaten the Labyrinth."

And how it had to irk him. That must be why she found herself standing beside her mother, before the Labyrinth—still in her pajamas. "Jareth!" she screamed.

"No need to yell, Sarah, I assure you, I can hear just fine," he said from behind her, and both women whirled around. He stood beside a stunted little tree, bearing in its branches a clock face numbering up to thirteen.

"Give me real clothes," she said, "give me a real chance."

"What difference does your attire make?" he asked in amusement, reaching out his index finger to twirl the clock hands.

"At least give me shoes," she begged unhappily. "Come on, you're the flipping king of the land, with more magic in your finger than in all my imagination—can't you give me that?"

He smirked smugly at her. "Very well." He waved a hand at her, magic hummed over her skin, and she glanced down in alarm, fearing he'd stripped her of her clothing but given her shoes—which would NOT be very funny, thank you very much. But instead, she was clothed in garments very familiar to her; the same outfit she'd worn on her first trip to the Underground, right down to her socks and sneakers.

"Oh," Linda said quietly, and Sarah looked at her in confusion, but was distracted again by Jareth speaking.

"You have thirteen hours, Linda—and Sarah. Use your time wisely." And he faded into thin air.

Sarah gave her mother a reassuring look and turned around. Spread out before her was the Labyrinth, protected itself by a seemingly endless stone wall. "Well, you heard him, Mother; let's go."

_A/N: And so it begins!_

_To my reviewers:_

_CoffeeKris—I'm glad Linda isn't turning out too flat—after all, if she was completely awful, no one would love her, and the whole story would be pointless! Ah, essays—the fun of writing, but without the fun. I hate having to do essays. Hope yours turned out well._

_WE'VE STARTED A TREND—good, I've created a consistent version of Linda that makes sense. Glad you like!_

_Willofthewisp—I'm happy to hear you like the tone of the story, especially since it just kinda wrote itself. I think it'd be hard getting it to change its mind about how it wanted to be written now!_

_Vendred13—oh, no doubt Sarah would be crushed to learn that, but of course, Linda will do everything in her power to conceal that fact. As for Jareth…who knows what he'll do, he's so unpredictable._

_AvitarGirl—yeah, Sarah would've grown up a much different person around her mother, bitter and wounded. But Jareth in his own selfish way is actually seeing to it that she gets a revenge she doesn't know she needs—yet?_

_Notwritten—I'm glad you enjoyed it. I will certainly keep smiling—I love nice reviews!_

_FaeriesMidwife— you're welcome. Linda definitely does deserve to be messed with. But poor Sarah, her mother isn't who she thinks she is._

_Nercia Genisis—here's an update! Hope you like._


	4. Chapter Three

_A/N: In honor of my wedding tomorrow (and the vacation that will take up my free time for a while, including my free writing time) I'm updating this now instead of being lazy for a few more days, as usual. The details are a bit fuzzy for me on the original Labby, since I don't actually own the movie myself, and of course I'll be making stuff up as I go along because just copying the original's not a cool idea anyway. Please enjoy._

**Chapter Three**

It wasn't exactly how she remembered it; the sky was faintly tinged with indigo now and the clouds a complimentary light stormy-gray. She couldn't remember for sure if she'd ever seen clouds the last time. The land was still rocky outside the border, and sandy and dry nearer the stones of the giant stone maze, though. It still was still impossible looking from ground-height. The sun beat down on them warmly and luckily there was no unpleasant breeze to chill them, because they had no jackets.

Sarah lifted her eyes to the extensive length of wall in front of her, and found herself searching for a familiar face—at Hoggle-height. But of course, her old friend was not anywhere to be seen. Why should he be? No one had expected her to be here—except maybe Jareth.

She scowled briefly, and jumped slightly when her mother's hand touched her shoulder. She turned her head to see Linda staring diffidently at her. She forced a smile onto her lips.

"The entrance is ahead. I know it doesn't look like it, but it's there," she told her mother, setting out in a straight line, intending to turn when she actually reached the wall. 'Maybe it's been moved, and Jareth'll make me waste all my time looking…' Happy thought.

Linda trailed her as she made the decision to turn to the right, and surprise, surprise, found the precise cut of the entryway with very little effort. That alone made her suspicious, but they walked through and turn left—having no other option.

'Well, it's going fine so far,' Sarah thought, her foot going down on one of the many square-cut steps of the pathway. It gave way, taking three rows of stones in front with it. A scream began in her throat, but before her mouth was even open, she flung her arms out and her left hand caught hold of a small ledge jutting out, that hadn't been there moments earlier. The Labyrinth wall had re-configured itself in split seconds, raising the ledge and other oddly marked stones until it revealed an evilly grinning face next to the ledge. The seemingly natural shelf went down under her weight and pushed the stones back up. Sarah stumbled backward as the walls further down the path did the same thing, one ledge on the left, another further down on the right, and so on.

Gasping, she pressed her back against warm stone, bent over. After a minute, she straightened herself, and caught sight of her mother's face. Linda's mouth was open, and she stared wordlessly at her daughter.  
.  
.

'Maybe luck is more powerful than I thought.' Linda pondered the likelihood of the events that had just happened, happening.

"What a nasty trick!" Sarah fumed, crossing her arms and staring down at the stone road with a frown unconsciously reminiscent of her mother's when she was angry. "That never happened before!"

"Sarah," Linda interjected, "of course not. He's made it harder." She rubbed her own arms, in her thin silk shirt of forest green, thought it was not cold. Her equally slight black dress-pants and heeled boots were not ideal for such an outing, but unlike Sarah, she hadn't had the wits to bargain for a more suitable outfit.

Sarah was shaking her head. She walked carefully around the center of the offending stone, until she reached the next protrusion on her right side, holding its place next to a colorful mosaic resembling a goblin partly obscured by vines that fell from over the other side of the wall like rope. She gently placed her hand on it and pushed down, and moved back again.

It fell sharply as if she'd leaned all her weight on it and the vines began to slither down the wall, moving down the path, until they reached the ledge four down on the left. There they wound around the ledge and back up, over the left wall's top to disappear.

"Should we…avoid it?" Linda asked nervously. It seemed too simple.

Sarah considered it. "No…no, I think it's okay. Watch."

She sidestepped down the left side of the path avoiding the middle, until she reached the sandy-colored ridge and pressed down on it. Instantly the walkway began to shift, and Sarah found the square she was standing on carrying her backwards. She recognized the booby-trapped square by its marbled-pattern appearance, moving past her. It was joined by others of its kind, lining the left side of the wall, and Sarah was deposited back where she'd started, beside her mother. The ledges folded down into the walls, until they were smooth again.

"I wonder what would have happened if we'd pressed the other ledges down," Sarah said. Linda didn't even want to think about it.

They continued on in peace…or so it seemed. They walked and walked, but several times had to backtrack, having found themselves staring at rocky dividers or natural barriers—violet waterfalls, fences of spikes meant to push forward and squish/skewer, gaps in the floor seemingly with no way to cross them. Sarah asked her mother if she had any lipstick; Linda did, along with a compact travel-comb that folded in on itself, her house and car keys, and breath mints. She watched in horror as her daughter disfigured her favorite tube of color—Siren Red by Avondie Cross—by using it to draw an "X" by the opening to a dead-end.

"Now we won't get confused," she said.

"Sarah!" Linda cried, forgetting herself. "That's expensive stuff!"

The twenty-year-old looked up at her strangely, crouched down, putting the cap back on. "What difference does that make if it allows us to get your soul back?"

"I—oh. I'd forgotten. I don't like to think about it," she added hastily. "Besides…realistically, we probably don't have enough to last us the whole way."

"Well, some help is better than none," Sarah asserted. "And I—" She broke off as movement at her feet made her skitter back in understandable wariness. The marked square lifted straight up as a rat-like creature with large triangles of ears covered in wispy white hairs—the only hairs on its wrinkled brown body as far as they—and a black button of a nose as big as its eyes glared up at her, holding the stone easily above its head. It chittered at her, showing pointy little teeth.

She gulped audibly, and Linda shriek, as it climbed out from the ground and looked at the lipstick. It pressed its nose to the "X" and chittered some more, in a rapid high-pitched voice. It ran at Linda, and grabbed her pants leg.

"Sarah!" Linda screamed. Sarah reached towards the creature and hesitated as it made no move to bite, only clutched at her clothing.

The little rat-thing sniffed her pants, backing up suddenly, its face screwed up as it was overwhelmed by her perfume. Then it scurried back to its hole and scrapped its palm across the lipstick and blurred it before smelling its hand. Then, without any further ado, it picked up the stone, held it over its head, and dropped back down into the ground, letting the square fall back into place.

"That was disgusting!" Linda groaned, shuddering. "What did that grotesque little thing want?"

"It smelled the lipstick," Sarah answered wonderingly. "And you. Your perfume, I mean. It…seemed like a tiny guard, wondering who was dumping chemicals on its beat." She frowned. "I hope it isn't bringing others of its kind back. We should get going." She began to walk in the opposite direction.

Linda hurried to follow her, running into her back as she stopped suddenly. "What?"

"Your perfume," her daughter answered. "It can track you by it. Can't you do something about it? I don't want it tagging along after us."

"Like what?" Linda asked, perplexed.

"I don't know…sweat? Make it fade away?"

Linda Avery-Williams did not sweat, on ordinary occasions; not ever. But as this situation was anything but normal, she unbent enough to dance around, doing jumping jacks and running in circles until perspiration pressed her clothes damply against her skin.

"More," Sarah said simply, watching her. "Let it run off of you."

She began to glare at her, then remembered that she was supposed to be worried about her soul, and what was a little—or a lot of—sweat compared to eternal torment? So she danced until she was soaked, for a moment enjoying it as she fondly recalling dance lessons she'd briefly had a passion for.

Finally, puffing and panting, she leaned against the wall, bent over with her hands on her knees, and felt slimy and disgusting. "Do I smell?"

"Of course not. You glow," Sarah smiled. "I think you'll be fine now. I can't smell your perfume anymore."

"That was expensive too," Linda sighed.

Sarah laughed, and when she found herself smiling in response, Linda was more than a little surprised. Relaxing enough to make a joke? This wasn't good; relaxing lead to feelings of contentment, and happiness, and fondness, and attachment. She couldn't afford to be attached to Sarah. She steeled herself, internally, put bars around her heart. It was the only way to protect herself, and after all, she was all she had.

Sarah stopped laughing as a menacing and thunderous clang sounded. It was the end of their first hour, and all they'd done was wander around, almost fall into the land, and upset a little rat. They'd barely made any progress. They sobered up immediately.

"Let's go," Sarah said.

_A/N: to my reviewers:_

_Jareth Love—No, I've never read her work before. I searched the name K.L. Morgan and begun to read, but was sad to see a note proclaiming all of her work on hiatus, b/c AFOD looked to be well-written and original but in keeping with the character's personalities and mannerisms. If you are reminded of that Jareth, then I feel very good indeed, and can only hope I don't later disappoint you!_

_AvitarGirl—and it continues! Hopefully you will still like it, ne?_

_FireShifter—thank you, I love the thought of being intriguing!_

_Notwritten—thanks so much!_

_WE'VE STARTED A TREND—I'm actually not sure what you mean…I think of Sarah as more naive, not because she's stupid, but because she wants to believe good things of her mother and has very little world-experience, for all that her encounter with Jareth made her grow as a person. But she's not blind, and I personally believe she'll start to see things she doesn't like soon, because she's never spent so much time with her mother all at once, and she's a smart girl. I wonder how the story will let me write that, since it gets such a mind of its own…_

_Prospice—wow! That means a lot to me, and you're very welcome!_

_Nercia Genisis—Linda's something, isn't she? As for Sarah in a ballgown—well, let's not rush things, but who knows? It could happen._

_hazlgrnLizzy—thank you! Hope you like the new one!_

_Subtilior—hehe. It will certainly not be a fun trip, and Sarah's got no clue, that's for sure. I'm a fan of that naughty arrogant evil Jareth as well, as that paragraph convinced you. Glad you liked._

_CoffeeKris—sorry you're stressed and your prof was mean. Stupid prof. Here's some more fic to soothe your nerves._

_Natsuko37—glad you like it so far, and I hope I don't disappoint you as it goes on. I love Labby, but as my earlier notes says, the details have gone a bit fuzzy. I'm going to get the movie and re-watch it._


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

"Well, we've finally made some progress," Linda sighed as they turned a corner, going deeper into the maze, shadows falling across them as they went into a rounded-ceiling tunnel. The temperature dropped slightly, and she rubbed her arms, and was surprised when her breath of air puffed out mistily from her mouth.

"Yeah," Sarah said uncertainly, running one hand along the wall. Small torches set at angles into the wall flared to life as they neared, with white flames that gave off no heat to warm them. "I don't remember there being an underground. I mean, except for the oubliette."

How long would it take before Sarah got the message that the labyrinth had changed? Linda wanted to but did not shake her head in frustration.

"Well, and the hole of hands," Sarah amended. It was so odd sounding Linda paused.

"The what?"

"It was a hole I fell down. And bunch of arms were sticking out of the walls all around, they caught me, and formed faces with other hands. They asked me if I wanted to go up or down." This was all delivered in a perfectly calm tone. Linda was secretly scandalized, but did not say anything, knowing her daughter as she did; a host of hands had groped—possibly fondled—Sarah, and she's only seen that they had saved her. Perhaps they had, but if they were intelligent hands, they surely had known how to cop a feel.

They walked on in silence until the passageway suddenly opened into a large oval of space lit by a glowing white fire sitting in mid-air. The path split off, part of it going straight but the rest winding around pools of shining silvery water. The largest body was at the end of the widest and main trail.

"How beautiful," Linda murmured. They walked forward together to peer into it but could not see even an inch into its depths from their little peninsula. Abruptly, Linda's throat stung with thirst and she knelt down with her hands cupped before her.

"Mother, don't!" Sarah cried, but it was too late. Linda gulped at the water, sending ripples out that did not disperse as they should have. Instead, they began to form patterns on the surface that quickly rose into sloshing columns of water. Mist fell down from the fire and covered the forms momentarily, and when they vanished, pale shining men and maidens stood upon the lake. They converged on the pair on the shore.

"Linda, Linda," they crooned, raising their hands in supplication. "We have long awaited you."

"What are you?" Linda asked, entranced, not even hearing her daughter yelling at her, or feeling her tug her arm, though she pushed her away to fall on the ground.

"We are your dreams," they answered in one voice. As they came closer she saw in their enormous eyes everything she desired; rivers of gold and jewels from an ivory fount, worshipful crowds crying her name, her own parents beaming up at her, hands outstretched. And she saw herself—as she was in her twenties. A curtain of ebony hair falling endlessly down her creamy cheeks flushed with natural blush, wide eyes more innocent and alluring than ever before or ever after. Her body was effortlessly graceful; her voice was dulcet as she murmured soft, modest thanks to followers. Everybody loved her, and when she turned and Linda saw her from the front, a golden glow originated from her chest where her heart was.

"Do you desire what you see?" asked the maiden in whose eyes Linda gazed wordlessly, but she could not respond. The maidens' pupils began to narrow, cutting off the vision. "But you shall never have it, Jofranka. Your heart is corrupted." Linda's hands went cold as the two maidens on her sides grabbed her wrists and sound began to return slowly. Sarah was screaming somewhere behind her. "You were born with a seed of evil inside your heart and with its every beat the seed has grown, spreading to every part of you, an infection never purged."

"A—aa…" she stammered in response. The maiden before her reached out a hand and gently enclosed her neck. Immediately her throat began to close up. Her own eyes went wide with panic and she began to struggle, dropping to her knees. The other two Labyrinth creatures released her, and dark gray swirls clouded her vision from the sides. She clutched at her neck, gagging.

"Your evil must be cleansed before it bursts from your body into the world around it," the pale being spoke sweetly above her. "You must be returned to place of your soul's origin; the netherworld."

The whole world narrowed into a thin column of light descending on the maiden gazing down upon her.  
.  
.

Sarah cried out when her mother disturbed the water, instinctively knowing it was not a good idea. But her warning came out too slow, and soon pallid waiflike beings with ash-colored hair and giant dark eyes were stepping towards them, having formed from the very water itself. She grabbed at her mother, but Linda shoved her aside and she fell roughly, barely picking herself up in time to see the crowd of things coming at her mother.

"Why do you seek to spoil your mother's happiness?" a gentle, soothing voice asked from her side. She turned her head sharply to the right to see a man—or something like one—garbed in a long white robe flowing over equally colorless trousers and fair limbs, standing next to her on motionless mirror-like liquid. "You, who have so much of your own?"

She opened her mouth to retort but was caught up at once by the vision in his wide black eyes. Something fluttered by in them, changed shape, became a man. Jareth. He seemed to watch her as through a window, and when he spoke, she heard his voice in her head.

"Sarah," he whispered silkily. "Do you search for me wherever you go? Do you see me in the face of every man who holds you, in the eyes of every animal that watches you for too long, too quietly?"

"I…" She did. How did he know?

"I, too, watch for you," he confided, leaning forward, and it was as if he stood before her. Why, if she reached out, she might touch his chest, bare where his shirt neckline cut away to reveal a gold medallion hanging from a chain around his neck. Of course, it bore an owl. "But I have better means at hand than mere dreams or imagination," he smirked. He flicked his wrist, held up a crystal for her to see.

"You…" She recovered herself and began to grasp his meaning. "You watch me? Why?"

He held the crystal tightly in his hand. "You have destroyed my world, Sarah. By merely wishing to. Should I not keep in my sights my enemy?" His eyes darkened.

"I'm not your enemy!"

He stepped closer to her, and, panicking, she realized he actually was before her. "You are my queen," he said in a low voice, putting an arm around her waist to draw her in. With his other gloved hand he turned her head to whisper warmly in her ear; she shivered. "Full of earthly light, and full of mortal darkness. You turned my world upside down and threw it all away, carelessly. You are the only one whose cruelty equals my own, Sarah. Or does it?" he asked philosophically, stepping back and releasing her. "Perhaps I overestimate you." He walked backwards, into a wall of shadow, and she was left looking into the cold eyes of the wraith-creature. He, too, fell back.

Something was wrong. Every fiber of her being was shrieking at her. Look! Look and see!

Snapping her head around almost painfully, she screamed to see her mother held captive by the females.

"Let go!" She ran at them as Linda dropped to her knees, choking. She shove at the girl on her right, and she burst into mist, joining the clouds descending. Eyes flashing briefly at the lake's center she could see more beings forming. "Crap!" She turned and pushed away the remaining two maidens. The last one laughed as she dissipated.

"Mother!" Sarah grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to her feet. Linda gasped for breath, and finally began to gulp in air.

"They know…they know me, my name…they see…all in the past! Everything's not a secret!" she babbled nonsensically. Sarah didn't have time for this.

"Okay, we'll talk about that later. Now, run!" They ran back the way they came, and Sarah despaired of ever finding a way to the center, when she noticed the Labyrinth changing itself. A door opened in the wall on her left and she veered into it, and darkness.

"I—I can't see!" Linda wailed as Sarah half-supported her, moving blindly.

"We'll—"

The rest of her words were cut off as they stepped onto nothing and fell. When they hit, the absence of light didn't allow her to see her vision going black. Instead, her ears let her know she was fading from consciousness as Linda's sobs faded slowly out…

_A/N: http/ www . 20000 - names . com / female gypsy names roma romani romany . htm_

_From above site:_

_Gypsy names are usually the same as those of the people in the country of their residence.Gypsy people are properly called Roma (sing. Rom). Their language is called Romani, or Romany. "Rom" derives from the Sandskrit word "dom" meaning 'man'._

_A/N: Keep in mind I'm no Gypsy-people/history/etc. expert, that this is just a fanfic. Also, as far as my limited knowledge goes, Gypsies keep themselves to themselves, rather like the Amish, so you can't exactly go down the hallway to your local neighborhood Gypsy and ask them to clarify a few things for you. And lazy people such as myself would rather spend time writing fics instead of spending needless hours on research, because again, this is just a fanfic, not a thesis paper._

_Note to reviewers in next chapter—that's right, I'm posting two in one go!_


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Sarah woke slowly, dim light pricking at her eyes; she had a headache. Her stomach gurgled hollowly, and she closed her eyes again, preparing to drift back off when her mother's voice tore through her ears and echoed around in her aching head.

"Wake up," Linda commanded. "We need to find out where we are. And we need food, and supplies."

Sarah opened her eyes. 'Fine thing for you to say, at least you had some water.' Immediately she was shocked at her attitude towards the woman she admired most. 'She's tired, too, and she's never been through this before. Besides, it's her soul at risk…' She sat up. When her hands encountered a tattered but unmistakably satin comforter she looked down to find she was seated on a worn mattress. She looked around. "Where are we?" Bed, desk, tiny lamp, stuffed animals…half-ripped up old books, dirty clothes, broken items everywhere…

'This looks familiar…'

"I don't know," Linda was saying, surveying the room they were in as well. "I woke up here."

Sarah got up and walked in a circle, touching the walls. She stopped before the desk—no, it was a vanity! She'd had a dressing table just like it when she was fifteen.

"Oh, God. We're in the trash heap."

It might bury them alive…

She spun about, looking fearfully at the door, expecting the trash lady to come in at any moment.

"What?" Linda asked, remaining seated on a spindly chair.

'No, she only came in when I tried to go out…if we just stay here, we're safe.'

"The clock sounded," Linda told her. "It woke me up." She rubbed the back of her neck, grimacing. "It rang twice. We must be in our third hour."

At that Sarah made up her mind. They have to brave that filthy overloaded hunchback of a woman in order to leave. The walls were too thick and sturdy looking to break through. "Come on," she told her mother, motioning with her hand. She hesitated at the door knob, grasped it, and spun it, yanking hard and rushing forward, arms out.

No one.

"Sarah?" Linda called, perplexed. Sarah turned and studied her. Linda was paler than usual, stiff-postured, and subtly angry in her expression. What had happened on the lake—as well as the last couple of hours of walking—had taken their toll on her.

But it had on Sarah, as well. They needed to be done with this. No more wandering around aimlessly. Jareth had made the Labyrinth darker, that much she knew, and he enjoyed toying with them. She needed to smarten up. He no longer underestimated her that was certain.

"Come on," she said again, and began to pick her way through the hills of useless, shattered items. "We'll just have to keep going until we find a way out."

"And if we don't?" Linda asked from behind her.

"We will," Sarah said simply. There was no other option but to sit down and wait to die, basically. 'How did I do this last time? I didn't eat or sleep then, either. Of course, it was a lighter place then…and I had Hoggle.'

The Labyrinth had been sun-infused, and friendlier with a companion, though still frustrating. Was it simply because she'd been through here once before that it was this way now? The question bothered her as the only path dead-ended, and they were forced to start climbing. Linda complained under her breath—but loud enough for Sarah to hear—every time her hands landed in something slimy. As if that would change anything. Sarah gritted her teeth and tried to think charitable thoughts.

"Moth—" Again her sentence went unfinished as the third hill in their way collapsed and they fell into another room.

"Ow!" a grouchy male voice yelped, and something wriggled underneath her. Sarah got up quickly. Her mother grabbed her arm and they stared in astonishment at the little figure on the floor.

"Hoggle!" Sarah cried joyfully—then stepped back. "Wait, you're not Hoggle. Who are you?"

"'Oggle?" the dwarf sputtered. "E's trying to hide from the king. Been killing the king's fairies, and that made 'im mad, it did. Poor bastard, be lucky if the king finds something else to distract 'im for another few days. Eh." He got up and dusted himself off. His words were muffled, as if he were swallowing them almost as fast as he set them out of his lips, and it took concentration to understand him.

"Is he okay?" Sarah asked fretfully, remembering her first encounter with her old friend. He had indeed being spraying fairies, but after being bitten by one, Sarah hadn't been all that sorry.

The little man shrugged. "I 'aven't crossed underground paths with 'im so far. Either e's good at hiding or e's dead."

"How can there be underground paths?" Linda interrupted, completely unconcerned with the fate of an unknown person. "This is the Underground."

"That's just a name, Miss," the man said slowly, like she was stupid. Her lips thinned.

"Well, can you help us? And we didn't get your name," Sarah continued. "I'm Sarah, this is my mother, Linda, and we need out of this place."

"I'm Argle," he began—t hen gaped at her wide-eyed. "Did ya say Sarah? The Sarah? The Conqueror? Of the very Labyrinth itself?"

"Uh…" Sarah trailed, bemused. "Well, yeah, if there's been no other Sarah in here since I was."

Argle shook his head. "No, mum. Never another with yar name. 'S a good thing, or we'd been confusing ya. Of course I'll help ya, but best be off quickly." Argle glanced nervously toward a door Sarah hadn't even noticed. "Don't want the king to think we're allies, but all the same." He reached into a pile of old clothes and yanked up a hidden door.

"All the same, what?" Linda asked. He motioned them down. Sarah went first, discovering a ladder. There was no light.

"All the same, can't ignore a request of the Conqueror. She's gained the respect of a bit foreign royal family member." He went down after Linda, standing up and re-arranging clothes to settle back on top of the door as he closed it, shutting them into darkness. Well, that was nothing new.

"A what?" Sarah called up to him. "A bit what?"

"A bit," he answered. "Small importance. Extended family, ya see. Not the main royals but all the same, got to respect 'em. She's the only Conqueror there ever was, and nobody expected 'er to return. But 'ere ya are."

"Oh," Sarah said. Her palms were starting to sting. Right on time, Linda muttered a complaint about it. Sarah ignored it and changed the subject. "Why does Jareth have a giant trash heap in his Labyrinth?"

"Ah, ya're the Conqueror all right," Argle sighed above her. "On'y ya'd call the king by 'is first name. Well, it's not a trash heap. It's the dumping ground for all the broken dreams of the prev'us runners. They lost their youngin's and got their dreams taken away for their imper'tance of summoning the king."

"There were others?" Linda asked quickly. "Did they have a book as well?"

"Book? No, don't know what ya mean. They called on the dark things of the night—the goblins—to take away their children. 'Course the Goblin King gets first chance at any child offered up, 'fore any regular cit'zen."

"Broken dreams?" Sarah persisted, trying to steer the conversation back to what interested her most.

"Mm. Those were, whatyacall, symbols. Of dreams. They all got to go somewhere, can't have 'em piled up in the way. Folks got to live 'ere, ya see."

"I see," Sarah echoed, and fell silent. Linda did not, and asked several times if they were nearing the bottom yet. Finally, they were, as foretold by torches at the base of the ladder.

"Careful," Argle warned. "Burn yar clothes up."

They stepped carefully off the ladder onto damp rock. Somewhere above her a distant clattering. She tensed up, but it wasn't the sound of the clock. Not yet, anyway.  
.  
.

Linda stepped off of the ladder, hands red in the firelight, and she was sure she'd have thick, ugly skin forming soon on her palms. 'Ugh.' This was nothing at all like the tale Sarah had told of her first adventure in the labyrinth. This was dark and frightening. And inconvenient. Where were her little friends, and her sunny roads and her green paths? Where were even her sleep-inducing peaches that almost killed her?

'Damn you, Jareth. You made it this way to test me, not her!' She'd completely forgotten that had been the case all along. She certainly didn't know the state of the Labyrinth reflected the runner's soul, and only Sarah's presence kept her somewhat safe.

Sarah's soul…and her luck. Jareth wanted to capture or kill her, more than he wanted anything else…but that was neither one's knowledge, at least at this point. All they knew was they faced another long walk, and that they were more and more hungry, tired, tense, every moment. Their time was slowly running on, and they could not seem to catch it…

_A/N:_

_Tell me, did you notice Sarah's official version of the peach story? Heh._

_To my reviewers:_

_hazlgrnLizzy—I know, it's slow. But I hate to rush things. Well, here's some action for you!_

_CoffeeKris—hehe, glad to be of some help. Dude, I wish I spoke Welsh…my name is a variation of a Welsh name…_

_Natsuko37—thanks! Linda did get a bit nice to her, making a joke and smiling with her, and caught herself. She doesn't like to be attached to anyone. No one can be as special as her, in her mind._

_Notwritted—I did enjoy it, thanks!_

_FireShifter—thank you so much! Here is more for you!_

_Wolf Elf—yeah, background info is always nice, eh? I thought it was important, in order for the rest of the story to flow, for readers to see how it began._

_WE'VE STARTED A TREND—oh, I see what you mean. Yes, she has matured, and here her eyes are getting opened a little more with every second she spends with her mother. The story has decided it will not be terribly long—more like the movie itself, moving right along, only without the needless fillers. Perhaps on some later fic I'll develop enough to learn how to stretch things out with just the right amount of dramatic tension, but so far, I just don't see 50 chapters in my future. sigh_


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

Linda stepped on her heel and muttered an apology which bounced off the curved walls of the murky tunnel.

'S'ok," Sarah said shortly, returning to her thoughts, shuffling mechanically along behind the torch-bearing Argle, as she had been for several minutes.

'You are my queen…you are my queen? What did that mean? Hey, that rhymes…okay, that's off-topic.' She shook her head slightly, eyes downcast, and scowled. 'Why would he say that?' She answered herself automatically. 'To mess with me.' Wasn't that always the answer? Maybe it was only a reference to her supposed equality in terms of cruelty—he was the king of it—and, yeah, the goblins, too—and she was the queen…

A drop of water splashed onto her cheek underneath her eye and she blinked.

"Why is it so dank in here?" Linda's pitch rose slightly. "Eww! Is this mold?"

"Prob'ly," Argle answered without looking back. "We're under the waste channels. No one else but us dwarfs knows the way through here."

"Who else would want to?" Linda said. The dramatic exclamation was followed by the sounds of gagging. For once, Sarah was in perfect agreement with her complaint, rubbing more fiercely at her cheekbone with her sleeve and shuddering.

"We're almost to the homestead. Have ya out near right at the entrance of the Labyrinth."

Sarah froze—Linda ran into her—and then leapt forward to grab Argle's shoulder and spin him around. He dropped the torch and it hissed on the thin layer of water coating the ground. They fell into shadow.

"Why'd ya do that?" he grumbled, stooping to pick it back up.

"The entrance?!" Her words screamed back at her five or six times. "No, we need to get to the center! How long have we been walking right back where we started?!" She gripped her own hair with both hands. 'Oh, it's not fair, it's not fair!' She glanced aside at her mother, despairingly.

Linda stood tentatively at her side, apprehension in her expression, her fingers curled over her lips as if to hold back her own words.

Argle stared up at her. "The center? Why didn't ya say so? I thought ya wanted out."

She could feel a full-body trembling coming on and her face and neck flushed warmly.

"Sarah," Linda said urgently. "Listen!"

Above, a muffled clanging.

"The clock," she said stupidly. "Damn! Listen, Argle, we need to get to the center. My mother's soul—well, half of it—is imprisoned there. Is there—how can we—do you know any short-cuts?"

"Half-soul, that doesn't sound right, the king only takes babes," Argle argued.

Sarah rolled her eyes. "I know what it sounds like, but it's the truth! Tell him, mother!"

Linda raised troubled eyes to Sarah's face, and then down to Argle's. She nodded.

"Well," Argle said slowly, as if suspicious they might be playing a trick on him. "I could take another way. Would end ya by the Bog's far side, but there's another hidden trail. Goes under the Firey's forest." Sarah grimaced. "That one ends under the new lagoon. From there the last path goes into the king's castle dungeons. Lucky's the dwarf that gets the cell with an escape route in it the floor, well if 'e can find it under the—"

"New?" Sarah asked quickly. "I thought everything here was ancient, never changing." Purposefully she put it out of her mind that yes; there was still a lot of walking to go.

Argle snorted slightly, and continued walking. They followed close behind him. "The land changes all the time. And the walls inside the Labyrinth. It's the king's property, 'e does what he wants with it."

"How does one creature get such power over an entire land?" Linda asked wearily.

"Don't know myself. E's been in power longer than I been alive. Word is, all the king's people—"

"The Fae?" Linda interrupted.

"Eh, if ya call 'em that. Word is, all 'em have power over the land. King's got royal family over in Aesten—"

"What's that?" Sarah and Linda asked together.

Argle stopped and half-turned to glare at them.

"Sorry," they said in unison.

"Aesten's the main court. The first. It's the place where all the other ones like the king comes from. That's the common name; don't know what they call it."

"But why is Jareth here?" As she queried him she slid on a slick patch of rock and landed on her bum at Linda's feet.

"Oy, watch for the hanging rocks, ya'll break open your head," Argle said helpfully, pausing.

"She fell," Linda pointed out, allowing Sarah to use her weight as an anchor to pull herself off the ground. Stalactites jabbed into Sarah's head when she was at full height and she yelped. "Oh."

"Anyway," Sarah bit out through clenched teeth. "Thanks for the warning, late as it was. Tell me about Aesten." She refrained from rubbing her head with an effort, twisting her hands into the long hems of her shirt. "And let's keep going."

"What's to tell?" Argle shrugged and the shadows on the walls jumped up and down. "That's where they all come from. And the king like all the others in Aesten and everywhere else they are has power over land. And e's here. That's what matters, as they say."

"Where are all the others?" Linda was behind Argle now.

Sarah's feet began to throb in time with her head. When would this end? Had it been so…so endless before?

"Where they are," Argle replied.

"Thanks, that helps so much," came her mother's sarcastic response. "Care to elaborate?"

"Don't know what that means, Miss, but if yar wanting to have a go at me I'll leave ya at the Bog and not see to it you get to the next path without the Fireys seeing ya," he warned her. "Don't like yar tone there."

"Huh!" Linda huffed disbelievingly. "I asked for more details. Or don't you—"

"Stop it," Sarah interrupted firmly. "That won't help. I know you're tired and stressed out; I am too. But—"

"You're tired?" Linda turned on her heel to glare at her. "It's not your soul at stake! Don't be so obnoxious to me, Sarah, I am your mother! And don't tell me you're tired! I've been awake longer than you and suffered things at that lake you can't imagine!"

She bit her lip. 'Don't say it—no, go ahead! Say it! You're not a child anymore and you don't deserve this!' She lifted her chin. "Well, then, since I'm such a brat, why did you even bother asking for my help in the first place? Maybe you'd be better off without me!"

"Maybe I would!" Linda yelled.

"Fine! I wish you'd never brought me here!" Sarah shouted back. "Argle! Take me back to the entrance, please!"

"What?" her mother half-shrieked.

"Then my debt to ya today is done, Conqueror," Argle said uneasily. "I won't owe ya more for yar status. Either we all go to the next path or I take ya alone."

"What about me?" Linda wailed.

"Don't owe ya nothing," he said.

Sarah spun about.  
.  
.

She watched her daughter walk away for a full ten seconds before the darkness enveloped her and she grew afraid. "Sarah!" she called, leaping forward. Almost immediately she ran into a stalactite. "Oh!"

She opened her eyes to see Sarah peering worriedly down at her, Argle off to the side with the torch, which was shorter than before. How long had it been…?

"Are you alright?" Sarah asked gently. She reached out to touch Linda's forehead. "You're bleeding. Not a lot, but still."

"Augh," she moaned, swallowed, tried again. "…Yes," she managed, pushing up on her elbows, wincing at the dampness on her back.

Sarah mistook the source of her expression. "Maybe you should lie back down for a bit."

"No. No. We're running out of time," she argued. "I'll be fine." Actresses, the good ones, learned how to work through all sorts of pain and discomfort.

"Okay," her daughter said, frowning. "If you say so. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Linda's lip twitched in a frown of her own, and she nodded—only to wince again at the pain in her head.

Sarah sighed slightly and helped her rise. "Argle, I'm sorry you had to see that. We don't usually argue like that. It's been…very stressful."

"Mm," Argle hummed, brows slightly raised. "Ya want to go on?"

"Yes," Sarah said. "To the next path, please."

They tottered off together, Sarah and Linda, with the latter leaning on the former. They ignored their stomachs gurgling and the water that fell on their faces.

'This is too much. I can't wait until it's over.'

_A/N: As I was writing the end, I suddenly thought, how do I explain why the Labby so little resembles Sarah's Labby? I know! And that neat twist about the runner's soul just wrote itself, but I rather like it._

_To my reviewers:_

_Natsuko37—she is a hideous sort of person, isn't she? But I'm not worried about her likeability. That's kinda what Sarah is there for, eh?_

_CoffeeKris—hehe! Go ahead, if you really want to. She deserves it._

_HazlgrnLizzy—that's always good to here! As I said, that twist about the Labby wrote itself. I didn't make it clear, but it's both Jareth and the Labby itself who re-arranges things, which is why he isn't always aware of luck operating to protect Sarah (see chapter three), but he can manipulate the Labby so that its darker elements are out in force. After all, a tougher soul needs harder challenges. The Labby also usually changes on its own depending on how well the runner's doing, in order to make it harder, but Sarah's case is special._

_Nercia Genisis—glitter? Have you been visiting the Underground and making off with Faerie glitter? Thanks on the congrats._

_FireShifter—what can I say? This story's on fire. Oh, sorry, I didn't even realize I was making a bad pun there, inspired by your name. . No, Sarah's smarter than her mother, books-wise. Linda knows enough about people to play her socialite role, though, with people she cares to impress. As for Jareth either wanting Sarah romantically or to destroy her? Possibly both. Poor conflicted Goblin King._


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

"We must rest," Linda gasped, as they at last ventured above ground once again. "Sarah, please." She was so tired she slipped into begging. "This isn't like walking down a red carpet, you know." She stopped at a large rock and positioned herself on a relatively flat section.

Sarah winced. "Yeah, no heels." They looked behind them, but Argle had been shuffling about while they talked, covering their tracks, and there was no trace of the underground trail they'd exited from; only a hill.

Linda got her first good look at him; short-limbed, wrinkly brown skin, wide nose, bushy brown eyebrows. Earlobes you could hang several pairs of earrings on at once, all wrapped up in baggy leaf-green trousers and a mud-colored shirt. No shoes on stubby-toed feet. And Sarah had a friend like this? No standards. Well, at least he was helpful.

"Won't stop 'ere, myself," Argle muttered. Linda pulled herself up, ignoring her aching side. The further they went, the more obnoxious the smell became.

"Ugh," Sarah wrinkled her nose. "I'd forgotten."

"Lucky," Argle grumbled. Linda refrained from adding, 'You don't know how."

They went around the Bog, back underground for what seemed like a mile, and when they walked out through an illusionary rock wall, Argle ordered them to wait while he back-tracked above ground. They sat down where they stood; he returned with a leather-looking bag, holding water.

"Fireys guard the best drinking pools, but lucky they weren't about just now."

'Of course,' Linda thought.

They gulped greedily at the water between the three of them, drinking all of it. Hunger was still a dull pain in their middles, but Argle brought them no food, and they were too tired to ask, and too used to the ache to think much on it just now.

Then Argle said, "Back to it," and down the path they went.

"'Ere we are," he said proudly, stopping at a small pool of slimy algae-infested water. Small flies popped about the surface.

The two women stared at it, at him, at each other, and wore the exact same expression.

"What do you mean, here we are?" Linda exclaimed. "What's this?" She thrust her hand out at the offending over-sized puddle.

"The entrance to the last path," Argle answered, seeming disappointed. "Can't ya see?"

"You've got to be kidding," Sarah groaned, putting her hands on her hips. "We're supposed to, what, walk through that?"

Argle gave her a disapproving look. "Thought ya'd be one to know, Conqueror. Things aren't as they seem." He gestured at the pool. "Open yar eyes and see it for what it really is—I'm telling ya the truth, and ya won't see it!"

"I give up." Linda threw her hands into the air. They slapped on her thighs when they came back down. "I think I'll just lay down here and wait to fade away now."  
.  
.

Sarah frowned, concentrating. 'Things aren't as they seem.' She looked up at the sky.

They were in their sixth hour now. Even though she knew this last step would bring her so much closer to the end, she couldn't seem to take it. 'What am I supposed to do?' She asked Argle the very same thing she thought.

"See the path," he answered, folding his arms impatiently across his chest, a doubtful expression coming across his face. "Come on now, ya've been 'ere before, can't ya do this?"

"It wasn't the same, last time," she argued, her tone rising defensively.

"What ya mean?" Argle scoffed. "Illusion is illusion; truth is truth. That doesn't change!"

"There wasn't so much illusion last time!" she yelled. "It was complicated and stuff, but the truth was always right there in front of my face, I just had to learn to see it!" She thought about the obvious truth of the last time—that Jareth held no power over her, which had, as the saying went, set her free.

"It's the same now, Conqueror!" Argle said firmly. "Always the same."

So Sarah imprinted that on her brain and looked again. The water flickered, transparent for a second. "Oh!" she gasped. Argle nodded approvingly.

"What?" Linda asked wearily, not getting up from her cross-legged position on the ground.

"If yar told the truth, all ya have to do is see it," Argle told her. She nodded distractedly.

"I do!" she half-shrieked happily. "I can see it! I can see the path! Mother!" She motioned Linda to come look. "All you have to do is expect to see the path there, and it will appear, because it really is there!"

Linda came over and stared down with her.

Argle cleared his throat. "Be quick about it, there. Best not to stay in one spot too long, 'round the Fireys' home."

"Do they try to take off everyone's head?" Sarah asked curiously while Linda stared down.

"Ah, yes. Ought to see how they decorated their 'omes. Well, per'aps not; if ya ever did, it'd likely be just 'fore ya were part of them."

"Ew," Sarah said, smiling a little. She was too overjoyed to be much upset about anything else right now.

"I get it," Linda said suddenly. "This is like acting. You get into a part, make it real, in order to convey it effectively to others. I can see it!"

Sarah glanced at Argle, who shrugged. He whispered to her as they went down after Linda's confident march, "Trading one illusion for another. Lucky 'er, in this case there really is a path to walk on under the second illusion." He grimaced, and she guessed he wasn't all that fond of tricking oneself in order to achieve things, preferring the truth. They had that in common.

It was again damp and dim, but this time Argle needed no torch and there came the added noises of splashing and thumping above them.

"Mermaids?" Sarah asked, fascinated.

Argle nodded. At her pestering him for details, he explained. "The fairies are like the king's spies, not just for the Labyrinth, but everywhere. They have the magic of being beautiful, and of contacting him any time they really have need to. They're savage, right, with they're reflecting 'is nature. But the mer-folk, they're dim-witted things. Naught but living dreams, made up of illusion themselves. They think they're alive, and so they are, that's the power the king gave 'em. They're just a distraction. Runner-men, they see them splashing 'round 'alf-naked, and always out of reach. They spend all their time trying to reach 'em, but ya can't, not any more than ya can reach a dream in dreamland. Ya got to be awake, or in this par'ticular situation, in yar own world, to get 'em. 'Ere? They're nothing but dreams made visible. Nothing to 'em to touch."

Sarah's dreams, as had the others', had been truly within her grasp only when Jareth had offered them in crystalline form. Anything else was, as the Labyrinth specialized in, an illusion.

He led them down a path through the closely bunched stalagmites, and up a bumpy hill, and the ground grew slightly drier. Finally they stood elevated on a clear space wide enough for them all to stand together. Almost invisible, until he pointed it out, was a roughly-hewn circle in the stone ceiling/floor. It had been in place since before the current king, he explained, or so it was said. Or maybe the king knew about it and it amused him to let some prisoners think they had a chance.

"Careful now," he warned. "Have to check to see there's no on in the cell, like a guard clearing out the old bodies, 'fore we all squeeze through."

"Can't we rest first?" Linda complained, clutching her side.

"There's no time," Sarah answered her. "And no point. We'll only get more tired and more hungry the longer we're here. We need to finish this as soon as we can, because we're in better shape now than we will be."

Argle nodded at Linda. "Right." He fiddled with a small pebble stuck to the ceiling beside the circle entrance, and put his eye to it, watching for several moments. "Clear. Let's be in."

He slowly raised the rock, with no small amount of wheezing and puffing.

"Is it heavy?" Sarah whispered.

"No, mum. It's put well in place," he gasped back. He shoved it carefully up and to the side, and stepping on the tallest flat-topped stalagmite, scrambled up. It would be considerably easier for Sarah and Linda, being taller, to do the same. He poked his head back through.

"Come on, now. 'Ere we go."

_A/N: This should be like, Part Two: The Truth and Illusions or something to that effect. I guess part one would be: Clothed in Lies or something. It feels like a whole new part coming up because it is. This is where Jareth gets more involved, because he obviously doesn't want them to win._

_To my reviewers:_

_Notwritten—thanks so much! I will!_

_HazlgrnLizzy—well, Sarah helps Linda because of who Sarah is inside, you know, not just because she loves her mother. But you're right, Linda doesn't deserve it. Sarah doesn't know that yet._

_WE'VE SRTARTED A TREND—thanks! I tried not to forget the little details, they're so important._

_Elliesmeow—I'm glad you like, and Sarah and Jareth will interact more later on in the story. But if I rush to that now, and Sarah finds out the truth too quickly, that kinda eliminates the point of a multi-chapter fic. And the story's really about how Sarah deals with the betrayal she never saw coming because she didn't want to believe it—put that in too soon, and there's not much else to write about, even including Jareth. Or at least, not much else to write realistically. : )_

_FireShifter—Oh, Linda's oblivious as to how much her stolen beauty has insulated her. Good thing, as you said, Sarah is smarter._

_Ginabella59—glad you like it, hope you stick around for more!_

_Natsuko37—Hehe, I love the way you said that, I can almost hear your disappointed sigh. But yeah, Sarah's at stake as well—not that she knows that, or that her mom cares much…_


	9. Chapter Eight

_A/N: Reviews are so inspiring…_

**Chapter Eight**

The first thing she noticed was that once again, she was entering into blackness. Most of her journey had been spent in it. She pulled herself up after her mother, her hands landing on something dry and crusty. She got up as quickly as she was able and wiped her hands compulsively on her jeans, not daring to ask what it was, though her brain pondered it against her will.

"Quiet," Argle whispered, his disembodied voice was hoarse and somewhere ahead and to her left. "Follow me. I'll move slowly, pick out a good path, ya be sure, but don't stop."

"Can you see?" Sarah couldn't help but murmur back.

"I know the way 'round 'ere," he muttered darkly, and she wondered if it was personal experience, or private family lore passed down to survivors. Both options were unpleasant, and she didn't press the issue. Surprisingly, neither did Linda, whose breath was softly but audibly puffing from her mouth.

'She's probably more tired than she's ever been,' Sarah thought. It wasn't an unkind or untrue thought; the more she contemplated the issue, the more she realized Linda lived a life of privilege far removed from her own, and aside from light daily exercise at the gym and a stint of dancing lessons, had never worked so hard in her life. Acting didn't count in Sarah's mind as work, as that was more play than anything else and a good actor just happened to get paid for it.

They all froze as they heard footsteps. "Get low to the ground!" Argle hissed, and they crouched awkwardly. Light passing on their right side passed over a natural rock wall, not revealing the guard. It passed on down on the other side of rusty iron bars.

"Not much of a prison," Linda muttered when the apparently short, unseen foe and his light was out of assumed earshot. "Goblin guards and iron bars?"

"Magical beings can't cross iron bars, 'owever old," Argle retorted quietly. "Means no Fae, no goblins, no half-breed magic beasts, and the like. "Ole cell's got bars around it and on the top and bottom under the rock, but for the drains and the one spot in this one. Few cells, though. Iron's not found often 'ere in the Underground, only the king has so much of it what because 'e goes above most often. Gets invited, and 'e doesn't 'ave to come right away, 'e can come anytime 'e wants, stick around and gather stuff 'e wants…"

"Goblins are magic?" Sarah asked as they stood back up, trying not to think of Jareth right now, despite the fact she was on a quest that would likely end in her facing him. Perhaps he wouldn't be home…

"They're turned into Goblins from other creatures, mostly 'uman," he explained. "Magic 'olds 'em in that form; so, they're magic."

"And you aren't?" Linda queried.

He scuffled along, but his tone was offended. "We Dwarfs are natural creatures of the earth! No magic in us," he said firmly, as if it was a matter of pride. "And the guards aren't goblins, they're 'alf-breeds. "Alf goblin, 'alf 'uman, and ya don't want to know 'ow that came about. But they're smarter than the average goblin, and they get better 'onors being a member of the guard. Decent clothes, not kicked 'round. Food," he added as an afterthought.

They treaded softly on. Finally, Argle said, "'ere!" in an excited whisper as they reached a latched gate. A torch flickered brightly across from them. He walked up, opened it as easily as opening the gateway to a backyard. "Well, Conqueror, my duty to ya is done. Luck on yar quest, as it is."

"Oh," Sarah exclaimed, disappointed. She'd somehow thought Argle would continue to accompany them, and acutely missed her friends of old. "If you see Hoggle, or Ludo or Sir Didymus—"

"'Oo?"

Sarah described her friends of old.

"Ah, the fox creature and the dog, and the great big beast," he said. "The fox and 'is steed is guarding paths in the Labyrinth against other runners. And the big one…" He scratched his head. "Think e's involved in something in the rocky 'ills. Must be 'im, not too many of 'is sort 'ere. Laborer of some sort."

"What?" Sarah asked, outraged, fists clenching at her sides.

"Oh, 'e likes it," Argle said hastily. "Gets to 'owl all day long. Sings songs about ya, Conqueror. Ev'ryone what lives near there gets to 'ear about ya. Don't know why the king allows it; per'aps it's because the beast is the only one the rocks will listen to," he mused.

Flabbergasted, she said no more.

"Well, be off," he said genially. "I'm off the way I came." He nodded to them both and began to walk away. "Oy," he called over his shoulder. "Be past the all-over-stairs room 'fore the clock strikes again. The guards change posts then."  
.  
.

"The what?" Linda asked her daughter as they walked out of the cell. Sarah re-latched the gate.

"I think…I think he means the room where I chased Toby," she answered. "It has stairs across every wall going in all directions, but whatever one you're on has gravity on it. Sometimes I'd be on the left wall and Toby would be on the ceiling!"

"Good heavens." Linda shook her head. "I feel nauseated at the mere thought."

"Well, the path only goes in two directions, and if the guard was going further into the darkness that way," Sarah indicated to their left, leaning against the gate, "then we should go right."

"Are you sure?" Linda asked suspiciously.

"Yeah."

"Let's go a bit in both directions," she suggested. "See what we find. Then we'll meet back here and decide."

"We only have so much time," Sarah protested. "I don't even know how much."

"Then we'll be quick." Without further discussion, she strode off in her chosen direction.

"But!" Sarah called.

"I'll be back," she said over her shoulder.

But she wasn't to be. She never made it very far at all. She'd forgotten that once gone from Sarah's side, lacking innate protective magic of her own or knowledge of hidden paths, she was no longer safe. Sarah's luck could not protect her.

She fell down into an oubliette kept just for the purpose of prisoners who escaped before they made it into their cells. Guards routinely avoided the trap, but Linda knew nothing of it.

Sarah waited for her mother, ventured after her, but could not find her; her luck prevented her from falling into the same snare. Finally she was forced to concede that Jareth had likely made off with her in order to distract Sarah from reaching the prize, but if she could still make it, they would be free to go. Or at least, have more time to bargain, with Linda's half-soul safely re-attached.

When the clock sounded and the seventh hour began, she was hurrying down the right path. She saw, around a bend, unlocked doorways. Unfortunately, light was bobbing her way. She slipped into a shadowy archway, and looked about.

It was, as Argle had called it, the all-over-stairs room.

_A/N: Okay, so I managed to draw it out for another chapter. I had to separate Sarah from her mother in order to allow Jareth an opportunity to taunt Sarah, mess with her head._

_To my reviewers:_

_Rionarch—honestly, I too wonder what Sarah will do. I answered your question, at least so far, about Ludo and the like. I don't expect to see much of them, but you never know for sure when your story's writing itself. Perhaps later on in the story…_

_HazlgrnLizzy—I like him too! Didn't expect to, but he's a good sort. I'm still deciding if the Fireys will make a real debut later on…_

_FireShifter—thanks! Yes, Sarah is beginning to realize just how different she and her mother are, and she's not sure she likes it. They spent like six or so hours together not doing things Linda likes to do, and it's revealed a whiny side of her. Still, Sarah tries to give people the benefit of the doubt._

_CoffeeKris—I was wondering when someone would comment on the fact Sarah has been so blind to her mother's true nature. Even now, she doesn't really get it._

_Notwritten—here is more for you!_


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine**

The Escher room, she believed the book had called it, seeing part of it in the passing light of a guard. Or was that something she'd made up herself after she'd left the Labyrinth but had continued to have her eye caught by book covers, paintings, and anything else that resembled her final battle in the slightest? Wasn't there some painter…?

Her musings came to an abrupt end as an unseen breeze scurried at her feet, she could swear she heard whisperings. 'Stop it, it's bad enough Jareth's messing with you, don't do it to yourself! Just wait until that guard passes and get out.'

But there came several loud bumps from just past the archway, and scuffling, and raising volume from the guttural voices speaking words she didn't understand. They seemed excited, or angry, she couldn't tell. They grew distant, and then returned, and seemed to be moving back and forth down the hallway. Maybe new prisoners were being brought in?

Nervous, she scooted farther into the room, and heard something moving. A standing torch lit beside her and she started, and looked around. The floor was moving up, and the entrance now led down stairs that turned with the wall. It looked very similar to the layout it had assumed the first time she'd entered this room.

Another torch lit diagonally opposite her on the other side of the room, next to an exit.

"Okay," she said softly to herself, "I'll just go that way."

An angry screech, higher pitched but definitely male, sounded behind her, much closer than the others, making her wonder if they Halflings were going to follow her in. She put a little more speed into her step and went around a corner, ducked under a low-roofed, unlit arch, and up some steps back into torch light.

Okay, not where she wanted to be. She debated going back and trying another direction, but decided to simply go on from here. She tried another set of stairs, and ended up, contradictorily, right back where she started. This time, she chose the other set of stairs.

She was on the ceiling. And no closer to her goal.

"What?" she asked aloud. "How does that…that—"

"It isn't fair?" teased a velvety voice.

'I was going to say, that doesn't make sense,' she thought, automatically looking around. Then her brain caught up with her in this distracting mess of a room.

"Jareth!" she hissed, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up belatedly.

"Sarah, Sarah," his voice said as she craned her neck looking at the—well, it had been the floor. Nothing but stone and dust. Her eyes darted to the corners, but there were so many of them…

"I think," he said softly, but somehow right by her ear, "that simply jumping down to the middle will not work, this time."

She jerked around, but of course he was not there. "Show yourself!" she said like a cartoon character, then immediately wished she hadn't. Seeing him was fifty times more disturbing than his voice alone.

"As you wish," he purred, and she looked up tensely. There he was, on the former floor. He smiled down at her.

"Tell me, Sarah," he crooned, walking along the ceiling as she edged towards another doorway. "What do you dream of now? Still of fame and fortune?"

She didn't answer, swinging though an opening that fetched her up on the wall that had been to her left.

"No?" he answered himself, dropping easily over and edge and then sideways across a wall, defying the laws of gravity and walking down steps that led him in her direction. "Perhaps of true love's first kiss?" he mocked the fairytales of her youth.

In the dizzying dimness of a corner she made her way down and through an archway, up another set of stairs, her only option. She looked up, then, edgily, over her shoulder, her hair falling across her back, her shirt sticking to her skin as she began to sweat from exertion and nerves. A fine layer of moisture formed on her forehead and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. She took stock of her surroundings.

She was finally on the same wall as the exit. Unfortunately, she was also on the same wall as Jareth.

She spun completely around and looked to her right; there was the middle of the room, the scene of Jareth's first defeat.

'There's no way I can run fast enough to make it to the doorway before he gets me.'

"What do you want?" she asked finally, stalling.

"Your defeat, of course," he said easily, coming slowly at her. It was like seeing headlights coming down a narrow tunnel, except that there was nothing resembling light around him, save when he used his magic. Only shadow.

"You're cheating," she accused him, unconsciously backing up in time to his rhythm. He laughed.

"I did not say this game was fair, Sarah. But take note; I have not used any of my power to stop you, none at all. Your lack of progress is no one's fault but your own. And your mother's," he added as an afterthought.

It jarred her to realize, in her fear, she had forgotten her mother.

"What have you done with her?" she yelled, stepping forward.

"I have done nothing—yet. But in time?" He did not look in the least bit afraid as she marched angrily up to him, stopping inches away to glare up into his face, fists clenched at her sides, twisting her shirt between her fingers. "I have more time than you do, Sarah," he reminded her gently, as if he was on her side. But she was not fooled.

"Give her back!" She stuck her finger in his face, as Linda herself was wont to do when stressing a point.

Immediately his eyes narrowed but before she could register the danger of her carelessness-forgetting he was no one to be trifled with—his fingers were tightly around her wrist, twisting her arm.

"Aah!" she cried, tumbling sideways. His other hand clenched at her shoulder, holding her up.

"Do not forget yourself, Sarah," he ordered her coldly. "I have not exercised any of my power against you, but that is not because I cannot. I merely did not need to, as you defeated yourself in your wanderings. But I am still no one to underestimate."

She looked up into his eyes, her own wide, too scared even to curse her foolishness, to wonder if this was as far as she would ever get, if it would all end here. Finally she was able to form a thought, then words. "What-what are you going to do to me?"

He looked back coolly, completely in control. Then came his dangerously appealing smile across his lips. "I should not like to interfere with a player, not directly. Unless that is your wish."

"My wish?" she said stupidly, dumbfounded. Why would she wish that?

He let go of her shoulder and loosened his hold on her wrist but did not—as she discovered when she tried to wrench away—let go completely. In his free hand he summoned a crystal and held it up for her inspection. Irresistibly, her eyes were drawn to its center.

"Mother!" she gasped, leaning closer. Linda lay prone in a murky room, barely visible but for the glow of her pallid skin in muted light. Even if she could have focused enough to take in the surroundings, Sarah would not have recognized where her mother was.

"She has not been harmed," Jareth assured her lazily. "But she is unlikely to receive aid where she is. In fact, she is unlikely to be discovered at all—before she rots to bones and the smell alerts the guards." He smiled as if pleased.

"You-you monster!" she screamed at him helplessly, wanting to fling herself at him and scratch his eyes out. But he still held her by one arm, and she knew better now than to do that.

"I can save her, Sarah," he said as if she had made no protest. "Quite easily."

She nearly sobbed, chest heaving and near hyperventilation. "What do you want?" she asked again, quietly, her head falling down, willing herself to just pass out.

"Stay here," he said softly.

"Until-when?" she gasped, unable to control her breathing.

With his other hand, he lifted her chin. "Forever. You shall be my slave. You shall show the Underground that your victory was a fluke, and never to be repeated. You shall show them all that you are not in fact, the great Conqueror. You were merely…lucky."

She did not understand the power of that word, not that even luck could not save her if she gave herself over to the king's hands. But she did know, deep down, that he should not have any power over her. By denying that, she had once freed herself. She did not want to accept his authority.

Somewhere, the clocked gonged. It didn't seem possible. Had she spent so much time here…?

"Your answer, Sarah?" Jareth prompted her.

She finally managed to slow her breathing. "And…if I say no?"

He smirked. "Than your mother shall remain where she is, and you will waste precious time looking for her. If she is not with you when you find her half-soul, you cannot merge them together. Think, Sarah. You will be well-treated here, and your mother safe. Just love me, fear me, do as I say…"

"And be your slave?" she couldn't help finishing with the alternate ending. Anger was steadying her, growing in the pit of her stomach.

To her surprise, he smiled again. "You forfeited your chance for anything else, Sarah. This is all you shall have now."

"No." She straightened, looked him full in the face. "I'll have more. I'll win—again. And you'll have to leave us alone forever. Now, let go of me," she said forcefully.

And odd looked passed over his features, some surprise, mixed with another emotion she couldn't name, something foreign on his face. He let her arm go.

She gazed at him levelly, and he stared back. Finally, she forced herself to turn around; trying not to hunch her shoulders against the creeping feeling he might hit her in the back with a crystal or something. But that wasn't his way, and she knew it.

"Beware, Sarah," he said in that soft tone she now recognized to mean he was no longer physically with her. "I shall move against you now, as is my right. And it will not be as easy as it was last time."

She continued walking.  
.  
.

Linda groaned, getting to her knees and finally to her feet, and looked up. Light seemed to come from nowhere, and be all around her somehow. It was also somewhere above her, so far above that she couldn't tell the source. Then she remembered the fall.

She also recalled Sarah's words, that Hoggle had helped her get out of such a place, for this could be nothing other than one of Jareth's underground dungeons, and oubliette.

But who would come for her now?

_A/N:_

_To my reviewers:_

_Elliesmeow—It certainly is sad, and it will be sadder still when I have to write the scene where Sarah realizes it. I don't know if Argle will re-appear. Hope that little Jareth-Sarah scene made you feel better, though!_

_HazlgrnLizzy—once I realized I'd forgotten to mention Ludo and co. I thought I'd better put that in there…thanks for telling me the name of the room, I wasn't sure if that was it! And you were right about the king…_

_Raevenne—thank you! Glad you found the fic. Of course, as a hardcore SarahxJareth fan, I want to see their original mission fail as well, but Linda is more devious than even I know…she'll do anything to succeed._

_Rionarch—for sure. We'll see more of her later though._

_Natsuko37—hehe. Well, she's certainly lost now, and Sarah has no idea where she is. But if she thinks Jareth is cruel, she unfortunately is really in for a shock about her mother._

_WE'VE STARTED A TREND—I like it too, the name came to me out of nowhere, glad you like! As for Sarah's luck—she's really gonna start needing it after this, isn't she?_

_FireShifter—sorry to keep you waiting! Jareth was being a pain, his lines wouldn't come out right, like he wasn't half-trying to be in character, and I was stuck for a while._

_Nercia Genisis—hehe! How'd the costume come out, and what was it for? Have any pics?_


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten**

The eighth hour.

She was tired, cold, with an empty pit where her stomach was. A migraine pounded around her skull, making the palest light from the water dripping down on the walls from the dome ceiling, cause her to wince, and close her eyes, feeling sick. Her skin was damp, as were her clothes. Her shoes offered no protection to her frozen toes, and she was more uncertain, more unhappy, more unsafe, than she had ever been before in all her life.

She wandered around, exploring her surroundings, not recognizing where she was as anything close to what Sarah had experienced. But then faint memory began to come back to her that had been buried under the lid of childhood experiences she wanted to forget.

The Fae were a diverse race, her mother had explained long ago, setting milk in a saucer beside some other objects outside their home. Some guarded the areas of the world where the fabrics between the realities of the mortal world and the Fae world were thin, seen by mortals who believed but were not seeking them, on nights of the full moon. They were immense giants with skin a lovely earth shade that was as hard as rock, and feared only the touch of iron. Such mortals who survived their encounters sometimes stole away a bit of magic, and were called sorcerers.

Others were as fairies, lovely and glowing, and everything Hollywood thought them to be, seemingly having no purpose but to please themselves and toy with mortals for physical pleasure. Still others seemed to be made of the elements themselves, drawing their power from them as their birthright, unlike the humans who struggled to borrow power that drained them by its use.

But there was one other…a dark king, made of shadows, with no known origin, who craved nothing that could be used against him but fresh entertainment. He was a shape-shifter with no fear and no heart; who did not draw magic from anything but simply was magic itself. He commanded the respect of all others of his kind, though he rarely had anything to do with them.

It was possibly—no, highly likely—that the Goblin King was this shadow Fae. Who else would walk between worlds so easily with no fear of what was on the other side of the veil of reality?

Despair coursed through her, and for once she was more afraid for her life than for her career. She did not know how to help herself, or what Jareth wanted. No…she did know that. He was oddly enough a being of his word, and had played his game with Sarah by his own rules. She had defeated him, as he would not deviate from them. And his pride was hurt. It would not do for the king of shadows to be thought bested by a mere mortal girl.

She slumped to her knees, sitting on her calves.

What would he do to her, if they lost? Yes, he'd take her beauty, which could perhaps be explained away to the media as the tragic result of a hideous accident. But he's said he would tell Daniel of her actions. She would live forever with her ugliness, and the shame, and lose the love of the only man who'd ever been close to knowing her soul. A little bit of her soul seemed to flicker in protest, crying out.

"I don't want that," she breathed.

"What don't you want, Linda?" a silky smooth voice queried at her side. She didn't turn her head, staring in the direction of her hands in her lap, attention focused inwards at the uncomfortable feeling in her chest.

Gloved fingers touched her hair, tucking its natural curve behind her ear. "Tell me, Jofranka. Do you remember your face before the glamour?"

Mesmerized by the honey in his voice, her eyes glazed slightly, seen by his immortal eyes in the darkness. "Yes…"

"You don't want that face again, do you?"

Her brows drew down along with her lower lip as she concentrated on this memory. She shook her head violently. No one else knew the pain of it, looking that way. Supernaturally ugly, as if someone had drawn on all the available new beauty in the world at the time of their simultaneous births in order to possess unearthly looks herself of the opposite kind. Someone had more than her share of beauty. And she was probably abusing it anyway with modeling contracts, and wasting it on greedy men. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right.

"I can save you from that, Linda. Jofranka will never rise again." His warm breath passed across her check. "Give me Sarah, and your soul. You hardly need it. I shall leave you enough to remain alive, and you shall have…everything. But you must release your maternal hold upon Sarah."

"I…" Her heart knew it was wrong.

"And you must cause her to release her daughterly hold upon you. Break the connection, so that nothing that knows this world can hold her to her own."

The glow of the water increased, making her pupils contract and leaving her temporarily blind.

"H…how?" she asked, barely breathing.

"Break her spirit," Jareth whispered to her, running his hands through her hair, magicking away the tangles. She shivered as warmth covered her skin, and her clothes felt softer, and dry.

"I cannot interfere with your bond directly. But if you will break it yourself, I can offer you freedom from life as mortals know it. It is your choice, Linda."

She did not feel that he was almost shaking himself, a fine tremor in his skin. She did not know he badly he desired to rule the one who had left him, metaphorically, on his knees. If she had she might have bargained for a better deal, one that didn't involve the loss of her soul and chance at salvation.

She hardly felt the beating of her own heart, so fixated as she was on keeping what she had. Only one thought occurred to her. "Don't tell Daniel."

Jareth smiled in the dark.  
.  
.

Sarah exited the Escher room wobbly with nerves and exhaustion. She had no idea how to find her mother. She certainly didn't expect her mother to find her, to escape from her prison. 'I have to keep going, I have to…'

Oh, all right. It was time to take that much needed cry break. She rested against a wall, then abruptly her knees gave out and she slid down onto her bum, in the throes of a full-body tremble and gasping for breath.

"Oh, how?" she moaned, resting her face in her palms, elbows on her knees. A flicker of light bright as the sun made her look up. A fairy glimmered into existence, her glow muting as she hovered, and spun sideways suddenly at Sarah's gasp, staring down. She chattered at Sarah and dove at her.

"Aah!" Sarah yelled, waving her arms defensively about herself in memory of that previous bite, trying to bat the tiny creature away from her.

"Aayazinthay!"it shrieked at her, its voice like that of a recording set to fast-forward.

"Get away!" She slapped at it. It dodged easily and flew to her hand, resting on it. But before Sarah could form the thought to crunch her fingers together, it ran up her arm and onto her shoulder, all the while buzzing angrily.

'It's gonna bite me on the earlobe!' she thought wildly, trying to shrug it off.

"Foolish mortal!" the fairy screamed into her ear. "If you refuse my help, Conqueror, I shall be forced to fight against you!"

Sarah froze before her other fist could slam into it—or more likely, her shoulder—and tried to tilt her head far enough to the other side to see it. It obligingly flew off of her and floated a foot away from her face.

"What do you mean, help? All you kind ever tried to do was bite me, even when I tried to save you from Hoggle!"

"We don't trust bigger creatures," the fairy said shortly. "Any." She straightened out her dress of tiny leaves which trailed to her knees, hugging her petite curves. Her eyes were dots of glowing light, which Sarah found slightly creepy, and her hair started out one color and faded from the top down into another every few seconds.

"She didn't look like you…the other fairy I saw."

"She was one color, all the time?"

"Yeah…?"

The fairy huffed. "I thought as much. Annstilya is always by the out walls, trying to see the new runners coming in. I'm sure that awful dwarf got her stunned and caged somewhere, if not worse, before the king got him on the run." She sniffed, raising her chin.

The mention of the king made Sarah nervous. "Um, speaking of the help you offered?"

"I owe one favor to the Conqueror, as per the rules," the fairy stated matter-of-factly. "What shall it be? Would you like me to pretend I never saw you? Or would you like to be taken somewhere?"

"Um…" Inspiration hit. "Take me to my mother. No! Bring her to me."

The fairy eyed her, and shrugged. "Okay. But I shall have to inform the king of your whereabouts after that."

"That's fine," Sarah said. She didn't intend to be here after the fairy glimmered off to see Jareth anyway, so she could just inform him that Sarah and Linda had been at this spot so many minutes ago, and that was fine.

She slumped back against the wall as relief flooded through her, and the fairy disappeared in a flash of light.

_A/N:_

_To my reviewers:_

_Natsuko37—"Then again, maybe she just randomly saw it and decided she liked it." Pretty much the case. As for making it to the Escher room being enough, well, nothing can ever be enough when what you're trying to recover was never stolen in the first place, ne?_

_Elliesmeow—Sarah will find out the truth soon! I'm working on the "how" part. Maybe Jareth will actually be helpful to me now, lol._

_HazlgrnLizzy—it's looking like option three! We will be exploring Jareth's motivations and true desires soon, as we get into the darker end of the story. As you can see, he is very nasty indeed._

_CoffeeKris—lol! Nimrod? Haven't heard that term in a while. Glad you liked._

_Notwritten—thank you very much, I hope your day is good too, and that you liked this chapter also._

_Prospice—you're welcome! We got to see some J/L interaction in this chapter and while not as fun, it definitely has its purpose in showing how far each of them will go to get what they want._

_Aysuh--? Is that a good "ohh" or a bad one?_

_FireShifter—have some chills down your spine with this chapter! Linda just went beyond bad here._

_Nercia Genisis—her luck operated again, to help save time. What's a dA? Is that like a live journal (lj)?_

_Rionarch—if anything, Linda would be jealous of the attention Jareth gives Sarah. Ah. I think I will be happy for the rest of this entire fic because of your nice, detailed comments. (Wee!) That is exactly what I wanted—Linda is indeed shallow and selfish, but I wanted everyone to see she is still very much a real person, just like all those self-centered, vain people we know in real life. There's a person in that overly made-up body, it just isn't very likeable. And if you love to hate her, this chapter is for you!_

_Ginabella59—well, that's a good thing! There's so many layers of "contests" here, so many deceptions, I'm not sure who'll really "win" but I know how we all want it to end…_


	12. Chapter Eleven

_**Chapter Eleven**_

When the fairy burst back into existence beside Sarah, Linda materialized beneath her, tottering slightly as if dizzy. Sarah rushed to her aide, and, as the fairy disappeared, knew there was no time to let Linda rest. "Hurry," she urged her, half-supporting her with her arm under her mother and around her waist. She dragged her down the hallway into the third pathway in the stone on their left, going in circles along a winding narrow staircase. It opened into an empty circular room. Sarah darted across it as fast as she could with Linda leaning on her, and found herself in yet another hallway. But it wasn't like the previous one.

She gasped; a wide stone path trailed into space itself. 'Oh my freaking—' Vertigo swept through her and she almost fell over, but Linda pulled her weight in the opposite direction and she managed to steady them both. After taking a moment to breath, she looked carefully around again. It wasn't space like outer space—there were no stars. Instead there was emptiness, except for the several side-trails on either side, dusky gray roads made of mist the color of twilight. At the end was an impenetrable glow the color of the moon but with the intensity of the sun.

'Could it be worse to go back or forward?' Sarah wondered, feeling her mother breathing on her hair as she rested against her. She knew Jareth would be looking for her in the caste, and wasting time was foolish. But possibly returning to where she had been wasn't such a bad idea; after all, surely he would already have moved on? 'Unless he's already searched the other side-rooms and is on his way to this one, and I'd be running straight at him!'

The thought of Jareth hot on her trail made up her mind. She paused only to shake her mother a bit. Linda lifted her head slowly.

"We have to go on. There's no other way. Maybe…maybe your soul's at the end of the road here." Actually, maybe that's what that far-off light really was, now that she thought of it.

Linda just looked at her, her lips tilting in something that was half a frown, half a smile. It was the oddest expression she'd ever seen on her mother's face.

She wondered briefly what had happened to her mother in the oubliette.

Linda shuddered suddenly, and Sarah reached out to touch her arms, see if she was cold. "I'm sorry, Sarah."

"For wh—"

Linda shoved at her with a surprising burst of strength and speed. Caught unawares, Sarah toppled over the edge into the darkness.

Her mind refused to consider what had actually happened. It simply shut down. She didn't want to think about it. It wasn't possible. People don't do things like that. It was like some terrible scene in a movie, but there was no certainty of a happy ending. Things like this…they didn't happen to her. She wasn't this kind of person that she ever found herself in such circumstances. Until now.

When Linda opened her eyes again, she found herself sitting on the main path. Without another thought, she picked herself back up and walked back the way she had come. She walked out of the room, down the hallway, and further into the castle by way of the main path. When she ran afoul of some of the guards, they bound her and carried her to the king's throne room. But she wasn't alarmed and went quietly. They laid her at Jareth's feet.

The king stared coolly down at her. "Where is she?"

"In the emptiness of the room with no stars but a glow like the moon," she muttered, still in a form of shock, staring at his booted feet. The boots were shiny; her mind noted to itself, while most of her brain tried to pretend to her body that it was dead.

Jareth got up leisurely and walked past her. "Take her to the guests' waiting room," he ordered his subjects as he left.

Sarah opened her eyes to find herself suspended in whiteness, feeling slightly titled, not that she could really tell directions here. "Mother?" she called timidly, uncertain of her surroundings and looking to see if she was alone. Memories reasserted themselves in the proper places in her brain and she caught her breath as pain gripped her chest and tightened her throat.

'How could…maybe she was…under a spell,' a voice said weakly in her mind, mentally thumbing through the possible explanations. 'Maybe she'd been traumatized and had finally snapped. Maybe, maybe…maybe she'd tried to save me from Jareth by giving herself up.'

That must be it, she decided, relieved she hadn't just given into despair and shock like she might have in her teenage years. There was something to be said for mature consideration. 'She tried to push me away to where Jareth couldn't find me, but she didn't know I'd end up here in this weird place.'

"Where am I?" she asked herself aloud.

"With-with me," came an echoing of voices like the chiming of bells, and she winced.

"Jareth?" she called, waving her arms to pull herself up and to the side, looking around nervously. She turned her head as far as it would go in both directions but there was no one.

"If you-if you were with him-with him, you would be in darkness-darkness."

She flinched, eyes moving searchingly across the endless expanse, hands moving up to rub at her ears. "Am I your prisoner now? Are you part of the Labyrinth?"

This time there was one strong tone, one of those androgynous types that you hate to run into over the phone without ever having met the person and a sense of wind rushing around Sarah whenever its invisible lips moved. The others grew quieter and were easier to tune out. Whoever it was seemed at least to understand the multiple reverberations of its splintered voice hurt her ears. "You are not my prisoner, Sarah; I have plucked you from the emptiness the Goblin King uses to hold his enemies when he does not want time to reach them."

"Why?" she asked tiredly.

"Your gift is your salvation," it answered.

"What?" No answer. "Okay, what's going to happen to me now?"

"What do you wish?" it asked mildly.

She grimaced. "I never make wishes anymore."

"But you hope. You dream."

"So does everyone else," she shot back, getting tired of these deflections.

"You have several choices."

She looked down, eyebrows crinkling, unsure of what exactly to say. Her heart's desire…what did she most want right now? There were too many options to choose just one without some thought. She wanted her mother's freedom, and her own. She wanted revenge on the Goblin King, but not to destroy the Labyrinth home of her friends. She wanted…true love's first kiss, and a happy ending, and all manner of things, all with the same intense longing—some needs were just more pressing right now. "To find my mother," she said finally.

"You desire to free your mother," it mused, "from captivity? She has been under the effect of magic for years. She is grown accustom to it. Could residing in the Labyrinth truly be upsetting to her person?"

"What?" Sarah demanded again, this time with outrage in her tone. "Who's done that to her? What did they do?" She completely forgot the obvious argument of the torn state of her mother's soul and the disembodied being did not say anything of it either.

"Such a heart is tainted," it—who or whatever it was—said. "Be wise, Sarah, and beware. Not everyone wants to be freed. I cannot save you from willful destruction of self for another."

"I don't understand," she whined, and frowned. She wasn't sixteen anymore, enough of that tone. "And it doesn't matter." Her voice grew firmer. "If anyone's hurt my mother, they deserve to pay for it."

"Against such forces, you are ignorant and un-effective. That is not my concern. You shall never meet the source of her current spell-bound state."

"Says who?"

"I," it answered just as firmly. "You are my chosen, and you shall not come to the same harm as your mother—she herself has seen to that. She has broken with the old ways, the traditions and generational curses wrought upon both her and themselves by her family. They meddled in magic and thought themselves blessed. And when she was born as she was to show the way they poisoned themselves, they did even worse—stealing glamour from another world to cover their sin and shame."

Sarah shook her head, not understanding any of this, and crossed her arms. "If I'm not your prisoner, then let me go." When she got no response, she stamped her foot in frustration and only succeeded in yanking herself down a few inches to continue to hang in mid-air. She steadied herself as best as she could.

"She has renounced the old ways, but never her stolen magic," it said finally, in a coaxing tone, trying to get her to understand, but she was having none of it.

"My mother has no magic," she insisted.

"It has left an opening for the king of the creatures it was stolen from to reclaim it any way he so desired, and at any time."

Suspicion was planted, and watered, but she ruthlessly ripped out the sprout from the back of her mind. "I don't know what you're talking about. And I don't care. Now let me go. Put me back in the Labyrinth so I can find my mother."

"You are favored, Sarah," it said gently, and so soothingly that for a moment she felt a wonderful peace deep within her, and unconsciously she relaxed. "Always remember that."

"Who are you?" she asked softly, blinking a few times before she remembered the circumstances.

"I am called by many names…I am light itself," it whispered and she felt her eyelids dropping as warmth covered her like a blanket. "I shine in you. All darkness desires light…you are greatly desired…"

She never heard the rest of its words. It felt like she was falling…

She opened her eyes, stretching her arms out, wonderfully rested and content.

'Be well…be wise…'

'Huh?' she blinked, shaking her head to clear the memory of some fading dream. She looked up, and it took a moment to recognize her surroundings.

She was on the ceiling of the Escher room.

Memories fell like snowflakes into her consciousness, and they burned as they melted. Linda shoving her off the walkway…

'To save me,' she told herself fiercely. Pondering her options, she heard the clock striking for the ninth hour. So, she must have slept some, or been not-imprisoned longer than she'd thought.

'Jareth'll find me,' she decided. 'And there's no going anywhere without my mother. I'll just stay here, and bargain with him when he arrives.' And so she crossed her arms and waited.

After several minutes, she began to rethink her plan. No one was coming. So she got up, hesitated, and began to pace. And a while after that, she realized how stupid she was being, cupped her hands on the sides of her mouth, and began to yell. "Jareth! Where are you?" Surely he had all manner of spies besides the one fairy wandering around looking for her. Where was he?

'Never around when I need him and in my face when I don't,' she thought in disgust and some relief. 'Typical.' Males of any species apparently all shared similar traits.

The air flickered, as with evaporating water. "You called, Sarah?" purred a familiar voice behind her.

Her heartbeat jumped and raced in her chest, but she turned slowly. His eyes were colder than usual, regarding her. "You wish to forfeit?"

"I never wish anymore," she repeated herself from earlier, remembering to breathe.

"Then what is it you want?" He advanced on her.

Of all the thoughts that were screaming through her mind, why did she have to notice the one that remarked on how dangerously attractive he looked? "Where—where is my mother?"

He stopped short of her by five or six inches, brows lowering in disappointment. "Surely you do not expect me to aid you?"

"I…" she swallowed—hard with a dry throat—doubting her own sanity, but forged on. "I want to bargain with you."

With the barest curve to one side of his lips, "Do you? What do you think I want from you?"

Her breath huffed out in disbelief. "I have no idea! I just…want my mother back."

He frowned at her, his head titling slightly back considering, as he studied her rigid posture, arms tense at her sides. "Well, that will never do."

"What?" She blinked. He was refusing her offer?

He shook his head, raising a gloved fingertip to shake slowly in front of her face in a no-no gesture. "Still so defiant, so proud. No. You shall not enter servitude in my kingdom that way. You must be broken of such nonsense."

Sarah just stared at him wide-eyed, all thoughts deserting her. He merely smiled, pleased with himself. "Continue on, Sarah. Perhaps you will still find your mother in time to save her. Or perhaps not. I shall decide what do with your offer later."

And without any further conversation or any showy displays of magic, he disappeared. To watch her crystal-sized image from the comfort of his throne, possibly, now that he knew her whereabouts. If he hadn't already.

She stared at the space where he had been until she was hit with a full-body shudder, panting with belated fear. She hadn't expected his refusal, or to feel so at a loss.

She hadn't expected to feel so disappointed.


	13. Chapter Twelve

_**Chapter Twelve**_

Linda opened her eyes and looked up from her comfortable resting spot lying supine on a plush scarlet-velvet lounge couch. Jareth, who hadn't been in the room a moment ago, was staring down at her with thinned lips, and expression familiar to Linda as that of her ex-manager's when he was seriously displeased with her. She waited, too smart to be the one to make the opening statement.

"She still searches for you, Jofranka," he said, adding subtle harshness to his even tone by the use of her old name. She twitched her shoulders unhappily and sat up, scooting sideways so she wouldn't be speaking to his, ahem, waist.

"I don't see why," she offered quietly. She'd accepted her decision and promptly dismissed the matter from her mind, though with considerable more effort than was usual, operating in her normal manner.

"Apparently, she has inherited her father's stubborn blindness to your true nature," he said in irritation, stalking off to pace away from her, turning back abruptly to appraise her. She sat, head turned to track him, hands resting in her lap. He seemed to regard her as an ally now, speaking not only frankly, but at all. Or maybe he simply continued to see her as means to an end and preferred not to waste time or magic when she was offered cooperation, and even expertise, regarding Sarah.

"That's…probably the case," she said cautiously. "What do you want me to do?"

He twitched his fingers, lifting a crystal to his eyes. Linda could just make out a small, dark-haired figure moving in it. Jareth turned his back to her, watching it, head tilted down. His back was tense—his whole frame was, and she wondered why he didn't just, well, cheat. It's not like anyone was policing him.

'Because he cannot bear the thought of it being said he had to use magic to win,' she answered himself, 'that he couldn't simply manipulate one mere mortal into defeat.'

"Let me go back," she said finally. "I will make her see that I have given her up."

He about-faced, eyeing her. "She has not gotten far in this time," he said. He nodded once, slowly, and lifted his hand to her.

He deposited them soundlessly inside the Escher room, on the ceiling, and scanned the walls. Sarah was just exiting on the far side. Jareth raised his hand again, but suddenly the Labyrinth changed shape, the walls slid up and down and sideways, and Sarah's door was gone.

Stumbling, Linda fell over, and looked stupidly up at him.

He stared at the disappeared door's old location, lips parted in deep suspicion, hand still out-stretched. "The odds of that…were unlikely to be in her favor," he murmured to himself, lowering his arm. He peered over his shoulder, first one then the other, and shifted his gaze to the dim corners where the torches now were. "Of course." Sneering slightly, he produced another crystal, studying it intently, and waved his hand over Linda's head.

Sarah jumped as Jareth appeared directly ahead of her in the hallway, her mother at his side, oddly enough, sitting on her bum on the stone floor beside his feet.

"Your mother wishes to forfeit," he informed her arrogantly, "she wishes to end the game here and now."

Her eyes widened. "Don't!" she shouted. "We can still win!"

Linda picked herself up wordlessly and eyed her daughter.

"Please," Sarah pleaded.

Linda's lips turned down slightly, and she looked…pitying? "It's over, Sarah."

"You're just…giving in to him?" Okay, so she'd been about to, but it wasn't her soul hanging in the balance. Even if Jareth physically kept her, she wouldn't suffer what her mother had been at risk to.

Her fingers hurt, she realized dimly, and she was shaking. It must be cold in here…or in her heart. She felt frozen all the way through, and utterly dumbfounded.

"No."

"What?" Sarah said weakly, feeling like she'd been asking that a lot lately.

"I'm not giving myself to him," Linda explained flatly. "I'm giving him you."

"What?" she echoed, certain she'd seen her mother's lips move but she couldn't recall what she'd said.

"I'm forfeiting my blood-right to you and giving you to him," Linda said again.

"No," Sarah denied this, shaking her head. "He's got you under a spell. You saved me, earlier. You wouldn't…what did you do to her?!" she screamed at him, yanking her head—and neck—painfully to meet his gaze.

"I've offered her freedom," he said smoothly, "from the mundane and ugly things of life. She has chosen, Sarah, and she did not choose you. Do give up, and spare me the effort of persuading you to discontinue this pointless battle; you have lost." He smiled. She hyperventilated.

'No. This isn't happening! I've got to save her, he's brainwashed her!' was her last thought before the shock took her weakened body over and she passed out.

When she opened her eyes, her mother was looking down at her. Relief was almost painful. 'It was all a dream…'

But Linda had turned her head away just as Sarah was opening her eyes, and didn't see that she was awake. She rose from the…bed?...Sarah lay on and strode over to a window, judging by the light on the floor. Sarah could just make out a darkly-clothed presence out of the corner of her eye.

"Why do you want her so much?" her mother asked.

"Do not presume to question me," Jareth said in a low voice.

After a bit, Linda pressed on. "You won't get rid of me until you're sure she's broken; you still need me, so you have to put up with me."

"And when I don't, perhaps I will kill you?" he said silkily, sounding like his old self for a moment.

Linda shrugged. "That time is not now. And I can't image death being worse than supernatural ugliness, and you are a…creature…of your word." Jareth didn't answer. "You just can't stand that she beat you," she said finally.

"She did not beat me!" he snapped, goaded into turning to face her; his shadow changed shape. "She was aided the entire time by that blasted light creature! She would never have made it on her own merits, as a whining, obnoxious teenager!"

That might have stung Sarah's pride a little, if she'd been in any state to pay attention to her ego. She rested quietly on her back, eyes still trained upwards and to the left trying to see around her own head to the figures partly behind her, feeling her heart thud in her chest and hearing it in her ears.

He stalked away from her in Sarah's direction. She closed her eyes, her breathing still slow and rhythmic. Even Jareth's voice directly above her did not make her jump; it felt like nothing mattered anymore, and nothing could scare her.

"See yourself out," he ordered. "A goblin has been directed to take you back to the guest chambers until Sarah reawakens." There was a soft shuffling of feet, fading into the distance.

Gloved hands smoothed her hair. "Ah, Sarah: the great Conqueror of the mighty Labyrinth. You were a thorn in my side even after your departure, inciting rebellion in the denizens of my land. You were surely sent by that…thing…to have an enemy within my gates, a body through which to operate to destroy me." His tone went haughty. "But I shall keep you as a prize. I will shape your desires anew until your only thought is to serve me," he said with conviction. "Until you fear me, worship me, answer my every whim willingly. I will rule you, and all shall forget my defeat at your hands."

There was a pause, and a rustle of clothing. Then, what would have made her start in any other state of mind: cool, bare fingers caressing her cheek. "You will bow before me," he said. "I will break you. I will have you. You will be mine for all of eternity."

A crackle of pure magic leapt from his hand to tingle across her face, barely contained by his skin and occasionally breaking free. Her head twitched automatically away from him, her eyes lolling under her lids as if in rem-sleep.

He let her shift away, then touched her again, tracing the lines of her face as if the temptation was too great to resist.

"Why chose you?" he questioned himself. "Surely there were others as promising. But you are the favored one, and so subtly. As if the bright one knew I would meet you. Planted you, to destroy me…but I am not dethroned so easily as that. No…" he mused, lifting his hand way from her face. "No, I am no mere mortal, to be dominated by these…emotions."

More shuffling. "I will enslave its favored pawn," he declared.

She wondered idly how many eons ago he'd taken to talking to himself. Perhaps the goblins were not good conversationalists, any of them?

His feet paced back and forth before her, and he stopped again by her bedside. "I have been your villain. Now I shall be your master." His fingertips rested lightly against her lips, lingering, as if testing the action and finding it pleasurable. She forced herself not to react, not to grow rigid, afraid he'd discover her consciousness if he followed up with his own lips. "No more shall you rule me," he whispered intently, his words entirely at odds with his actions. The heat of his body vanished as he pulled away.

A whoosh as displaced air rushed to fill in the now empty space as he disappeared. She opened her eyes, feeling odd, feverish, and slightly sick to her stomach. Her body temperature rose the way it tended to do when her emotional stress level neared breaking point, just before she started throwing things.

His words, his actions, when he thought her unconscious, were in a startlingly different manner than when he knew her to be awake and aware. He was honest, and open, and somewhat deranged. Clearly obsessed. Far more attentive to her physically, which was in a way even more appealing than his cool distance, but she couldn't get over the shock of it.

If ever there was a sore loser…

What enemy did he speak of, that sought to use her against him? It didn't make his actions any more excusable. He'd messed her mother's mind up to the point of breaking her sanity and making her give up her own daughter, he'd stolen her brother and driven Sarah herself into guilt-ridden anxiety, he'd taunted her by offering her dreams in exchange for Toby, and played with her emotions by way of a drug-riddled peach. He'd haunted her dreams for years. He'd broken her heart, her first impossible crush. And he was certainly guilty of stalking her via his crystals, obviously.

'This guy is insane,' she thought. She sat up, one thought clear: with Jareth so certain she was out, he wouldn't be watching her. She could escape. Without her mother?

She considered that thought with deeply mixed feelings. Linda was clearly either under a spell—though her bold nature still shone through, as heard by her questioning the king—or slightly off herself due to her unaccustomed-to adventures. Linda could easily betray her without really meaning to. Sarah refused to consider that she would do it on purpose, it was way too unlikely. Mothers didn't do that. Even Karen would never do such a thing, and for much of her life, Sarah had regarded her as the wicked witch of just about any corner one could think of—maybe several corners at a time.

She couldn't stall herself any longer; she had to choose a course of action. 'I'll ask him to let us go.' Stupid, try again. 'I'll ask him to let my mother go, to stop messing with her mind, and I'll stay.' That was more acceptable. It was clearly Sarah that he wanted, Linda being merely the means to the end. He would give back her half-soul and Sarah would humble herself at his feet, as contrary as that was to her nature.

Fearful thoughts at what he might do to her poked at her imagination, but she suppressed them. There was no time for that now, though there would surely be plenty of time for crying and screaming and throwing whatever was handy later. But first she had to find him. And before that…she had to see her mother one last time, and say good-bye. Linda, in her current state of mind, would likely try to summon Jareth at her daughter's appearance anyway, and solve the riddle of his location for Sarah.

She nodded to herself, and rose, dizzy as her blood rushed around for a moment. When she was ready, she tested the door, and it swung open silently. Time to go.

The clock sounded in the distance.

_A/N: __Why is this format not respecting my pov-space-separations? It's not registering them...sorry, I'll figure out how to fix that, because my current efforts aren't working, and I know it's harder to read._

_To my reviewers:  
_

_Ginabella59—thank you! Sorry I didn't update soon…_

_Elliesmeow—" Sarah's so much more challenging when she's not broken" Yes, but Jareth's a control-freak, to say the least, and rather used to getting his own way, and Sarah threatens that. Your comments about Linda's reflection and the purpose of the Labyrinth are spot-on. Sarah's a survivor, but she can be hurt. She's also very stubborn with this denial thing, as you see._

_Natsuko37—lol. Of course Linda doesn't see herself as hypocritical. Such people tend not to._

_Notwritten—thanks much! You too._

_Pyrolyn-776—I'm glad you are, and hope you continue to read!_

_FireShifter—for the tiniest second she doubted herself, but at the core she's too selfish._

_CoffeeKris—lmao! Love your description of Jareth's actions! But sorry, things kinda got worse for Sarah…_

_HazlgrnLizzy—it was kinda both options, huh? One right after the other._

_Vendred13—lol. Yep! Quite some battle, but Sarah was an unknowing participant…perhaps that will change. Even I don't know what she'll decide—stay with Jareth or side with the light and try to defeat him? Depends much on him and her mother and what they do, doesn't it?_

_MadHatter427—thank you! I try._

_Raevenne—I tried to make the chapters longer, just because you wished it!_

_Cap'n Kspaz—I'm glad you found it, and thanks for reviewing!_

_Aysuh—no prob! I know, it killed me to realize, re-watching the dvd, how few times they actually interacted._

_Jjellybean00—hope you enjoyed it!_

_Animetvgirl—I certainly hope it was worth the wait—sorry the wait was so long._

_Becca—I saw your review and felt like a horrible, horrible person, and sat down and wrote two chapters for you all to ease the guilt._


	14. Chapter Thirteen

_A/N: Sarah's long over-due for some contemplation on her situation, and her relationships. Not as much action here at the start, but bear with me._

**Chapter Thirteen**

She was no longer certain what hour she was in, but figured it really didn't matter anymore. Considering the situation her mother was in, Linda might well agree to stay here voluntarily regardless of whether she won back her half-soul or not.

In the wide corridor there was a flurry of sounds, some of them bell-like as the clock tolling, and a shuffling of many feet in rooms beyond her on both sides, which was odd because she found a window on her left and looked out at the land below her and saw there were no jutting-out rooms along that side of the wall behind her. The doors on the right remained locked. Shrugging, she meandered on, on the look-out for any goblins or Halfling guards. Several times long-haired gobliniod creatures in dirty rags crossed the path far ahead of her across some wider space but they never once looked sideways. It made her nervous at first until it happened so many times on her way down the hall that she got used to it and relaxed; they were too much in a hurry to pay attention to her. No need to veer towards a wall out of the center of the aisle when they ran past. Still, she waited until the coast was clear to dash across the big empty room, circular with multiple doors set into the wall a foot apart from each other.

Taking a breath she reached out and yanked on the door directly across from where she had been. To her surprise, it opened, but it revealed yet another hallway decorated with the same stone walls and what looked like metal torch holders, flames dancing merrily despite a lack of air currents. This must be yet another part of the public area.

"The Dwarves made all the king's metal works, decorations and them," Hoggle had once told her through the mirror. Well, now she knew why; iron was deadly stuff to many here. In her foolishness, she'd imagined it was because like the Dwarves of fantasy stories, they were excellent metal workers somewhat obsessed with making weapons and mountain dwellings.

'I can't wander around here forever. I need to find a non-goblin creature who owes me a favor,' she decided. That meant leaving the castle. If she did and asked, for example, another fairy would take her to Linda but then alert the king. A Dwarf might have access to all manner of secret tunnels, even in the palace, but wouldn't know where Linda was. Mermaids were no help, there were no other Ludo-like beings around to help bash through walls (and Jareth would probably notice that) or Didymus's with innate knowledge of the layout of the land and all its inner realms (as per any good knight should have). That left her standing in the new hallway without a clue what to do.

'I could ask for help from…it,' crossed her mind. Her lips pursed, feeling unwilling to recall anything about that encounter. But its words floated back into her mind. "Your gift is your salvation."

"Um…" she murmured, feeling stupid. "Please help me find my mother, um, thing. Light thing." How exactly did one invoke a gift if they didn't know what it was? 'I have no magic either…'

Nothing happened. She sighed and leaned her shoulder against the wall on her right. Idly she fingered a tiny loose chip of stone at waist-height, trying to push it back into place before it fell out of the wall. Immediately she fell over when her support vanished when the wall obediently slide sideways into itself and back into the proper place, and she tumbled in about in total darkness down a sliding length of 

stone, painfully scraping her palms and once her ear against the ground before landing on her side on a flat surface.

A damn Dwarf tunnel, just as she'd thought. Ill-lit from glowing, liquid-y fungi on the walls, as Linda's oubliette had been in Jareth's crystal. She grunted, closing her fingers over her new scratches, wishing she could see better in the dark like her diminutive Dwarven friends. "I need light." She stumbled around and tripped over something, scrambled against stone and fell through another wall, into a coldly beautifully chamber decorated with glistening gilt-encrusted emeralds across the ceiling.

'Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence…' passed through her mind.

"Your gift is your salvation," she whispered, staring about. Her gift…light? She was a chosen pawn—em, soldier, if one would, of a creature made up of light. Had it given her the gift of summoning light, or at least bringing herself into it when she had need? If only she'd known about this in those tunnels!

Jareth worked with the darkness. Sarah seemed to have light at her beck and call.

Her breath caught on a sudden revelation. SHE was the enemy within his gates—light and darkness, Sarah and Jareth. They were made to destroy one another.

Pain at the thought closed her throat up tightly, and she couldn't swallow, rubbing her neck with one cold hand.

'I don't know why that should bother me!' she told herself. 'He stole my mother, my brother, and who knows how many other children. He tried to trick me so many times…'

Her abject mix of fascination and fear with its undercurrents of deeply-rooted and mostly ignored desire for him mourned his possible loss; the world would certainly be a less exciting place for her without him. But safer. Not that she knew exactly how to defeat him. Did she have to kill him? Unlikely; she'd never manage that. Unless she summoned a big ball of light and threw it at him, obliterating him.

'I wish I'd known about this earlier,' she thought miserably. 'At least I could've defended myself when those stupid lake creatures almost killed my mother.'

The room she was in was large, containing a lush couch at one end set in a crescent shape around a low table, a luxurious bed at the other. A huge wardrobe housed an eclectic assortment of feminine apparel. An ivory colored standing screen six feet high in one corner, she carefully inspected, hid nothing other than a claw-foot bathing tub. No toilet. Cream touched with gold-colored walls, one entire side decorated with realistic murals showing charming places of the Labyrinth, separated by painted twining vines, like picture frames. Fairies glades, mermaid lagoons, pretty birds in the sky with multiple wings, each figure decorated with gems for eyes and gold in their hair, and other beautiful substances scattered throughout the scene. A small window was set into the frame of a mirror held by a glowing nymph-like creature in a white dress, showing the outside world to the watcher inside the room as if through a portal. Curious.

A decidedly feminine room in an otherwise masculine castle? For visiting guests? Live-in paramours? She couldn't imagine Jareth taking lovers, though surely he had. The thought upset her, because in her latter 

teenage years she'd imagined he'd been true to his words of twisted affection for her, having eyes for no other.

'Unlikely,' she snorted, and shrugged her shoulders against the feeling of jealousy. 'I'm going to try and defeat him; I have no business worrying about who he slept with.'

Abruptly the door flung open and rather automatically she dropped herself down beside the couch and crawled behind it.

"Goblins as servants," Linda huffed as she entered the room. "Useless. Set that on the table!" she barked. "And don't spill it. I don't want your dirty hands touching the fruit." She sounded sickeningly like Jareth, and comfortable already in her new home.

Grumbles—from the human woman and the grubby creatures she commanded—sounded, then a pitter-patter of tiny, disgusting feet, and the sound of a door closing. Linda dropped herself onto the couch and Sarah felt the material shaping itself to her, moving where she rested her head against its back. She stood up.

Linda didn't notice and was reaching for a pear. Just as Sarah opened her mouth she caught a flicker in the air, and, knowing it for the herald of Jareth's appearance, silently dropped herself back down to her knees, glade her loose fitting jeans didn't make a scrunching noise from being damp and dirty.

'Oh, that's right; the light thing cleaned me up.'

"I have need of you," Jareth's voice came. "Sarah is missing. Find her."

"Can't you?" Linda asked casually.

A squeak sounded as Linda's weight abruptly lifted from the couch.

"Uhgay," Linda choked out. A moment of silence. "How am I supposed to do that?" she asked hoarsely. Sarah's jaw clenched as she guessed what he had done.

"Call for her," Jareth explained impatiently. "No, not physically! Ignorant mortal! With your mind, call to her who shares your blood. You still have a bond, and the magic here amplifies your ability to feel her presence."

Sarah felt her heart speed up.

Linda sounded confused. "I…she's here."

He was beginning to get a growling tone. "I know she is in the castle. I do not know where. She is not in sight of any of my spies."

"But I feel her strongly," Linda insisted.

"Impos— " he began but stopped suddenly.

Tension tightened her muscles. Jareth's footsteps took him back towards the door, but he did not leave as she's hoped. They sounded softly as he walked over to the wall Sarah had excited from, reaching for it, examining it. There was no opposite chip to let one back into the secret tunnel—it seemed it was easier to enter the castle than leave it. He explored it with his gloved hands, all the way to the end, and turned to begin to search the wall behind the couch. There was nothing for it; he would find her in seconds as she entered his peripheral vision. She stood up once more.

His head quickly turned to take her in, and she had the brief pleasure of seeing him caught off-guard. Linda, she could just see out of the corner of her eye, was similarly startled.

He regained his composure instantly. "You have found your way here," he said easily, "but in vain. You have served no purpose other than to once again be renounced by your mother and given over to my power."

Renounced…where had she heard that word lately? Oh, yes. The light creature had used it. She still didn't want to believe her mother had any magic, but if Sarah herself was so favored, couldn't Linda be as well, just as unknowingly? Or knowingly…

She turned her eyes to her mother.

"It's true," Linda said quickly. "I don't want you." She eyed Sarah warily.

Her heart seemed to close down, save for building unpleasant warmth.

"Give in, Sarah." When she looked forward again she met Jareth's arrogant gaze. He was so sure of his victory. So smug. He'd torn Sarah out of her comfortable world, twice now, broken all of her happy illusions in his desperate attempt to rule her, and failed to capture her heart, though her body had answered his call as well as it was able, Sarah being largely ignorant of what went on between a man and woman alone, at age sixteen.

Now, as never before, she saw him truly as her enemy.

"I mean it," Linda said firmly, from her left.

Her mother was lost to her, whether by magical means or no. There was no love left to reach for in her heart.

A sob forced its way out of her throat before she could stop it. Jareth smiled.

She hated him! She hated that expression on his face, and the sound of his voice, and everything about him! She gave herself into the whispered suggestion in her head, and called for aide as loudly as she could, screaming in her mind. And the light creature answered.

Blinding whiteness flared around her form as she evaporated from the room, clinging to the only safety she knew, afraid to lose control because she wanted to. She wanted to light up his entire kingdom, destroy it all and especially him.

"It would do no good," it answered as she opened her eyes in its domain once again. "Darkness is as eternal as the light."

"Then I cannot destroy him," she said dully.

"You were never meant to," it said gently. "Only assert yourself as the more powerful force."

That made no sense to her, so she ignored it. She closed her eyes and willed her hunger-wracked, exhausted body to sleep.  
.

.

_A/N: Truth hurts._

_To my reviewers:_

_Jjellybean00—you'd have a lot of members! Heh. You're very welcome._

_MadHatter427—well, the light hopefully explained about that a bit more in this chapter, why Linda fights so hard for her stolen beauty._

_CoffeeKris—I laughed so hard when I saw your review. Hopefully you liked this chapter as much, though it is sadder._

_HazlgrnLizzy—yes, like most men, Jareth is an idiot in the ways that count. Linda is blind, very blind, because all the adoration she wanted she could've gotten from Sarah and her father, but it just wasn't enough._

_Raevenne—sorry to make you late! -grin- Yes, there is more going on than they know and Sarah is learning she's not as helpless as she thought she was. I'm glad you caught the hints Sarah's occasional childishness, etc. as inherited. Not many people have commented on that, but no one on earth really knows that inside Linda's soul she isn't as good a person as Sarah, who has sometimes acted in the same manner as her mother._

_Cap'n Kspaz—I know! Me too._

_Aysuh—yes, he's a creepy stalker. A hot creepy stalker._

_Rahpsody—for sure! Thanks!_

_Ginabella59—such nice words, I thank you very much._

_LDeetz—they just don't get it yet, though, do they?_

_Notwritten—thank you! As for the good day, well, it started snowing here…again. Even though it's April. So that sucked._

_Elliesmeow—aww…that's sweet. :) Sarah definitely doesn't want to think of herself as unwanted and therefore neglected, so she resists it. Yes, Jareth enjoyed the touching too—he wants more of it! Sorry to be so long. These later chapters are giving me more trouble, because even as you're inching the characters toward growth you have to keep them in, well, character. Can't have 'um running around being all ooc just because they want to jump to the kiss-and-make-up part._

_Natsuko37—she's just had a truth shoved in her face, and she hasn't really even begun to deal with it. I don't know what she'll do when she sees her mom again. It will be hard to write._

_Rionarch—lol. Glad your comp started working again! Sorry to scare you about the gypsies, and no, Didymus is there, sadly. Neither will Linda's mom show up, though if she did the first thing she'd is slap Linda upside the head for running away and summoning the Goblin King._

_FireShifter—Jareth's magic leapt out of his skin and shocked her, like an electrical shock, which is why (imo) he wears gloves. It doesn't always happen when he touches someone with his bare skin, but it can hurt. Sarah is somewhat protected though, as a favored one. As for her family, I don't know if/when she'll see them again. Linda told Sarah she'd lost half her soul, but in reality she wished her away when she was young and needs Sarah's help now or she'll lose her glamour._

_Becca—I know it's a compliment, but I was glad to feel guilty enough to write more. As said above, though, these later chapters are troubling me. Also, work is eating my life. I'm glad Sarah's coming along nicely, characterization-wise. -happy-_

_Xelena—Linda is irredeemably selfish, yes, but her curse was actually supernatural ugliness, the kind where people throw-up on sight of you or beat you up 'cause you look like a monster. I don't think that came across well…as for Jareth, he hates Sarah for making him feel the way he does about her, but can't resist her at the same time. He needs to get over this and just kiss her already! (She'd so slap him, though, I think, out of pure shock.)_

_Jareth Love—thank you much! Here is more._


	15. Chapter Fourteen

_A/N: Yay! Jareth's pov!_

**Chapter Fourteen**

Linda cried out and fell over, crossing her arms to shield her eyes as a burst of light brighter than the sun exploded over Sarah's head. When it faded as quickly as it had come, she looked up, expecting charred remains. She peered over the back of the couch. There was nothing there, not even scorch marks. She looked to the Goblin King.

He had a rather odd expression on his face, frozen into deep suspicion and resignation. "So," he said. "I cannot touch her." His forehead wrinkled slightly as his brows quirked up. He walked over to Sarah's vacated spot, still muttering to himself about being truly and powerfully favored.

Linda herself was freaked out. Sarah had magic too?! Sarah had thwarted the Goblin King?! Sarah might want revenge on them both?! She realized she was hyperventilating when Jareth turned his eyes to her.

"You have no use for me now," he said. He flicked his hand at her and she was propelled backward into darkness. Sleep began to descend. She barely heard his last words to her, "But you may again in time," and certainly wouldn't remember them—if she ever woke up again from her stasis.

.

He was called for by another runner, a teenage mother living in one of those backwoods towns, and sent her on her way through a twisted, gnarled-tree infested Labyrinth, dotted with the occasional pink flowers blooming along trails so safe looking they obviously led to danger. Fairytale paths taken straight from her imagination, lent substance by the magic of his land, deceived her as she fought for her toddler daughter, crying and uncertain if she even wanted to win.

He watched for interference, but there was none. Of course; she was not favored. He dropped the crystal and it puffed into mist and dissipated, inches from the floor. Settling back comfortably in his throne, he ignored the goblins running around yapping at each other about how to trip up the new runner he was supposed to be overseeing and contemplated the situation.

Sarah was the second most powerfully favored pawn of the light being he'd ever encountered. The only one more so had tried to set his kingdom ablaze—but by his very attempt had lost his own purity, and though he'd greatly damaged Jareth's land, had lost his power halfway through the attempt. Jareth had promptly killed him.

Sarah would never do such a thing, he knew. It would be abhorrent to her. It was one of their differences that fascinated him. What was it like to have a soul so preoccupied with peace, love, and concern for others, that it would give up an advantage and even die for another—even one it didn't love?

The Goblin King was not oblivious; he knew well enough that Sarah had been sent to destroy him, though not by any physical means. She was meant to subdue him. The light of her eyes was entrancing and impossible to duplicate. The purity of her soul, strength of her heart and great physical beauty, her resistance and a curiosity to match his own, were all meant to entrap him and force upon him a desire to be a better man. Like a common fool, he'd allowed himself to take personally his defeat at her hands 

in this contest of wills he had will the light being, feeling stung by her rejection though by no means would the being have chosen a mortal easily seduced or who craved darkness themselves. But he'd never had a female favored one as a runner before and hadn't guarded himself as well as he should have, lax from easier victories the last few decades. He'd given her power over his emotions and had suffered for it.

"She's at the two-path oak," a goblin squealed at his feet. Whenever the Labyrinth changed for a runner, the goblins allowed to enter it were automatically granted knowledge of its general shape and landmarks, magic that allowed Jareth fewer headaches in sending them out to deter the stupid human running around in it. Sarah's luck had increased miscommunication among them in that regard on her run-throughs.

"Go, go!" another shrieked, and ran through the archway out of the room.

Sarah. He amused himself with an image of her on her knees before him, begging him to spare her mother. Then he frowned. It didn't feel right.

Sarah herself could not be hurt—she'd simply flash out of the room, an opposite process from his of using complete darkness to hold his enemies in a permanent sleep. She couldn't hide others in the light; he couldn't enter the darkness himself.

And she might truly believe Linda now, and have given her up for lost.

His legs, crossed at the ankles, separated and his feet firmly found the first step to his throne as he leaned forward, worried.

What if she never came back?

Days gone by, the runner losing but the next more clever one winning, and a squabble between the Labyrinth-dwelling goblins and the Kesvir who lived under its paths. He handed the one-year-old Sasha off to the tree elves for them to raise into a useful Jareth-obeying denizen helping to maintain the royal orchards because he needed no more goblins, presently. He assured the imps who cleaned the oubliettes and tunnels—always overworked—the next one would go to them, but declined to hear the Fireys' request for some of the spare mortal children to play with. He returned the fourteen year-old idiot and his five-year-old sister to their home in Chicago (sure young Brandon would never repeat to his sister that particular bedtime story again), and summarily punished the goblin who'd intruded on Kesvir territory to steal some of the shiny human artifacts they'd gathered from long-gone runners (such as Linda's gold colored lipstick tube, among other things).

And still Sarah did not return.

The sky, in response to his mood, darkened into the sapphire blue that signified growing displeasure. If it should become midnight black all the time his subjects would cower in fear.

The goblins, and therefore everybody, knew Sarah had been here again. And they were in general smart enough to remember that the last time she was here it had ended in disarray and black skies. The castle goblins still didn't dare mention her name though throughout the lands there were creatures who had 

escaped cells whose magic had weakened when Sarah's had briefly overridden his, exerting her control before she'd left. They of course liked her greatly. They didn't know she had left again.

He didn't know if she had left again. He had no idea where she was. But he wanted her to come back, to finish the fight and lose, and be his, answering to him alone and begging to satisfy his every whim in order to keep him happy. Throw off her power, openly submit to him before his subjects…join him in his chambers, quite alone, and experiment with him with some of those interesting positions the mortals were trying nowadays. His fingers twitched with a desire to touch her bare skin again, the memory of it haunting him. She was nearly unattainable—was she truly out of his reach? He found the thought preposterous, despite her little show in the guest chambers days ago.

There were plenty of lovely nymphs to dally with, if he so desired, who cared for the beautiful vicious birds that responded kindly only to them and their king in-between feeding on those infernal worms infesting the Labyrinth walls, helping runners along. He could temporarily reduce himself to fairy-sized if he wished to have one, carelessly interrupting their duties as spies. And many mortal women had fallen at his feet offering him power over their lives in order to have him in their beds.

The lack of a challenge had turned him off, and now their eyes were empty, lifeless and dull compared to hers. Sarah literally brought light everywhere she went, and there is nothing darkness craved more than a little light.

.

It seemed like centuries before she opened her eyes again.

'Why?' the thought popped unbidden into her mind, and she wasn't sure what she was asking. She had to sort through several painful threads of memory before deciding on her first actual question. "Why did my mother do that?" she asked the great white void around her.

"Do you truly desire to know?" it queried in return. "It is no small story."

"I need to know," she said finally, unable to keep her voice even; a tremor escaped her control and her words wavered in the air as they left her mouth.

"Jofranka was born under the affliction of a great curse, an outward showing of inner poison."

"Who?" Sarah huffed in bewilderment.

"Your mother was given the name Jofranka upon her birth. She was born a gypsy, destined to wander the earth. Her clan found ways to draw magic from the earth itself, but no human was meant to have such a thing—it clouds their minds with delusions of great power, desire to rule others, a sense of superiority. Jofranka was born with the appearance of a changeling in its natural form, feared and hated, until her mother stole fairy glamour from the Goblin King to cloak her in. The Goblin King had every right to reclaim his stolen magic, but instead of returning it, she offered him something in trade."

Hearing his name in other's mouth made her sick, especially in a tale that joined him with her mother. She had no reason to trust the light thing was telling the truth but its words had the ring of authenticity. Faintly, echoes of words sounded in her subconscious. She didn't hear them with her mind, though her heartbeat jumped erratically.

"She offered in trade her daughter to run the King's Labyrinth in her place, for the girl possessed better courage and a gift of great magnitude, which her mother noted but did not understand. The King saw the mark of favor upon the child and agreed to accept the girl as runner in her mother's place when she grew older, arranging the circumstances so as to position the girl at his mercy. But he never relinquished his hold over Jofranka, and after his defeat at the hands of her daughter, came calling for what was rightfully his."

"Her beauty," Sarah said in a daze. Linda had traded her daughter for beauty. It seemed so worthless, especially when she thought of the ugliness in her mother's soul, or half-soul, or whatever she had left. The words of the lake men and maidens, ignored but never forgotten, made more sense to her now.

"He offered her unique loveliness that would not fade even as she aged and great prestige among her kind. Fearful of returning to her childhood circumstances, she accepted. But there was one thing required of her, in order to secure her gift."

"She had to get rid of me," she said, feeling that same angry heat in her stomach as before.

"She had to bring you to the Labyrinth, for the King could not intrude upon you himself. And she had to break your right of return by the power of one you were connected to on your native world. Only with you isolated from earth could she place you under the King's power as he so desired."

She laughed bitterly. "Sore loser if there ever was one."

No response; apparently the tale was done, at least so far.

"And you?" she asked. "What's your part in this—travesty Jareth and I are acting out? Why'd you pick me? Who picked him?" Something extraordinary occurred to her. "Is he a pawn too? Is that where he gets his magic from?" And, "Is he really a goblin? Or a giant fairy or something?"

It waited patiently through her questions, not interrupting, but did not seem to feel an obligation to answer everything as openly as before. "That is beyond your worry," rushed its voice like many winds, perhaps a sign of agitation. Or was she merely projecting hopefully, since it irritated her so much right now she wanted to return the favor? "Do not concern yourself with the king's origin."

"I'm not gonna fight your battles," she snapped, glad to have someone else to misdirect her anger on. "I'm not your weapon!"

"You are not," it agreed, setting her back in her argument.

She tried again, angling for information, a slip-up, something. "So you and darkness are at war, and what? No one wins? I thought darkness was eternal."

"The balance has shifted," it answered enigmatically.

'Towards who?' Jareth, likely, and darkness. Sarah was largely powerless. What was even the point?

She wondered suddenly just how much Jareth himself knew about this. She hadn't wanted to see him ever again, seconds—eons?—ago, but this curious thing they were wrapped up in was larger than themselves, their personal vendettas and desires.

'Desires?' she questioned herself. She shied away from the thought that she still wanted him, physically, however much his foreign nature appalled her.

She didn't have his magic, but she had safety to flee to whenever she had need of it—well, at least as long as she was in the Underground, perhaps. She'd never tried to run to the void aboveground. So, maybe she should go see what he knew.

As for Linda…

Again, she broke off her train of thought before it could lead somewhere painful. One thing at a time.


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter Fifteen**

She found herself exactly where she'd left from, in the beautiful room of her betrayal. She had to wonder about that; what if the castle had shifted the way Labyrinth did? Would her re-entrance have shifted accordingly, or would she have been placed inside a stone wall where the room used to be, conscious long enough to curse her luck before she died as rock mixed with her innards, her body and stone fighting for the same space?

Her brain was desperately trying to distract her and she let it, all the way into the safety of the hallway. The light of the sun outside a window made her think.

'Can I move anywhere light can?' She willed herself to flow into another spot where light curled down into the little passageway on the left, but ended up back in the void. She tried to find herself moving to the Escher room, just as an easily recognizable starting place, but no, she was right back in the hall…except a few steps further down. 'Maybe there is a way to do this, but I just don't know how yet,' she decided.

There was a simple solution, she knew, but she wasn't quite ready to face it yet. Instead, she wandered back towards the room and past it, knowing from the familiar torches dotting the dimmer walls heading south that she had already been down that way. North it was. Not that she really knew her directions here, but the floor seemed to slide upwards a bit.

She reached at the end an open balcony and stepped nervously onto it. A low rail—goblin-height—was formed by waves of sculpted stone forming spheres each an inch apart, sitting on top of one another, the gaps between them too small for anything but a fairy to pass through, holding up a smooth palm-width length of sandstone on the very top. It reached to her knees, and would definitely not keep her from falling.

Looking to her right, she saw another corner of the castle, hundreds of feet of, looming over the center of the city, with a triangle-shaped archway cut into the darker rock that allowed one to step out for a quick view of what was going on below.

There was something eerily familiar about it…

A howling sound from the distance in front of her caught her attention and she looked up at the hills beyond the city in time to see rocks dropping from their perch on a cliff-top. 'Ludo?!' Was he in danger? The rocks then rolled up the side of another hill to form a semi-circle on the flatter top, with more to follow. Apparently not, then. His call went on, dipping up and down in pitch almost like a song, the vowels-sounds elongated and the space between them too far for her to tell if there were words or not.

Smiling slightly, she felt better and strong enough to do what she should have done in the first place.

"Jareth! Where are you?"

.

Always attuned to a call for his attention from anyone in his kingdom—whether he chose to ignore them or not—he was so surprised to hear Sarah's voice that he did not answer right away. When it came again, he frowned and took a moment to find her exact location. Ahh. There she was. He transported himself there immediately.

"Sarah," he began in his usual over-confident voice but she cut him off.

"Did you know we're in a war?" she asked seriously, eying him.

It was such a ridiculously obvious statement that for a second he didn't know what to say. He regarded her curiously, his lips parting, oblivious to the way to sky beyond them lightened to lavender again. "And you have decided to surrender?"

She brushed his words away with a negative motion of her hand. "Not us! I mean light. And dark. You know, the huge forces of power beyond our comprehension? And no," she added, her back straight with a hint of lingering tension, ready to flee.

Again, he didn't respond right away. "And you see me as darkness itself?"

She looked him up and down. "Not itself. I'm not light itself, either."

Well, that was a debatable point. "What fairy tales have you been filling your head with in your absence this time, Sarah?" he asked cautiously.

"I've been speaking to the—the light thing," she said hotly, a faint flush beginning in her cheeks, making her look even more mentally un-balanced than her words alone had.

'Light thing?' Understanding lit his mind much the way her abrupt departure had his eyes. 'So; it has made itself known to her.' He could feel his angry smile crossing his lips, an expression he knew to be both frightening and tempting to women, Sarah being no exception.

"And you have chosen to aide it, have you? By destroying the evil Goblin King?" he said in a smooth low voice, like a burning gulp of bittersweet dark coffee that scalded her throat but she couldn't deny herself a taste of. Her face was so easy to read. He covered the short distance between them in two easy steps and reached for her before she could think to escape, wondering if her flaring would burn him as well, should she try to once he held her in his arms.

"You're—you're not getting it!" she gasped, twisting in his arms, trying to push against his chest but she couldn't free her hands, so tightly did he grip her. He knew it pained her, but the thought of her openly defying him again made his blood boil in his veins, especially now that she had magic of her own.

"Am I not?" he whispered into her ear when she turned her head away, her breathing gone all shallow. He left one arm wrapped around her slender waist and brought his other hand up to her hair, to forcibly turn her head, knowing she couldn't think well while being seduced.

"It wants to use us," she managed. "I don't know what you know. I don't know where exactly you get your power, but you can't go on being its pawn!"

Her words brought him up short, mere nanoseconds away from yanking her head cruelly forward to claim her lips in an unmerciful victory, angry that she still entranced him, wanting her to want him back.

"Pawn?" he repeated dangerously, eyes narrowing.

"I don't want to fight you," she breathed in this respite. "At least, not for it. I hate you for what you've done, everything. But…if everything we've done is because of some great cosmic war…it isn't right!"

"You mean fair?" His hand clenched, fingers digging into her side and she winced, anger reappearing in her eyes as she turned her face back to his. "Why should that matter to me, Sarah? I am a cruel being."

She looked bewildered, though he couldn't think why. "What?"

"This surprises you?" He laughed. "You, who have long known me? Why do you ask what you already know?" he mocked.

Something flashed in her eyes, a distant blue spark in her pupils. Startled, he watched them glaze briefly.

"Bring me the child," she said suddenly, as startled as he was.

Unsettled, he regarded her warily. "What are you talking about?"

Looking confused, she continued to mumble to herself. "I have no other child…It is for Sarah, loved by the Goblin King." Shock filled her expression and she cried suddenly, "She really did it! She wished me away! No!"

Completely thrown by this sudden development, he didn't even think to wonder if his own words had broken the forget-spell because it had weakened, or if this was luck's intervention, setting him up in this manner, to speak words too similar to those on their first fateful meeting for the charm to hold.

She sagged against him, her legs giving out, and if he hadn't been pressing her so tightly against him she might have slid down his form to the ground. Sobbing into chest, the long-suppressed sadness overwhelmed her as reality reasserted itself in place of the broken enchantment.

Well. It hadn't gone exactly the way he had planned it. But there was no denying her connection with her mother was finally broken. The light being's intervention, perhaps, working against it for once, because Sarah was now far more vulnerable to him, who had never wronged her in the first place as her mother had. If he didn't allow Linda free to fix things by filling Sarah's head with excuses and lies, she would remain in this sad state…

His to do with as he pleased.

Smiling with satisfaction for the first time in a long time, he transported Sarah to his bed and laid her down in it. She clutched at his shirt, still crying so strongly she shook, and he left her as was, lying down besides her, anticipating the better uses they could put this bed to, once she was done with this weeping.

She pressed herself against his warmth blindly, and he let her. 'Yes, forget your earthly attachments. I will be all that you see, all that you cling to. I will be your master.' He sighed to himself, stroking her hair.

'Her slave…' He frowned at the traitorous thought. No. No longer did she have that option. She was his opposite but not his equal. And she would learn her new place here, Conqueror no longer.

_A/N:_

_To my reviewers:_

_Jjellybean00—heh! Your happy dance makes me want to do a happy dance! As for Linda, well hope chapter fourteen made you feel a little bit better. Still not dead, though…_

_HazlegrnLizzy—yin and yang, exactly! Linda, as I said to another reviewer, is basically beyond redemption. As for Jareth, he's not quite yet, but he's pushing it._

_Ginabella59—well, I have no problem with you reading it again, for sure! I know how hard it can be trying to understand another language (for me, it was Japanese), and I feel privileged you're even reading my fic when English isn't your first language._

_Raevenne—ah, you've seen that movie too! I was influenced by it, and the psychology classes I had taken (though the anthropology did overwhelm me a bit, so you have quite impressed me already by minoring in it). Yes, Sarah still doesn't understand her purpose in regards to her being favored._

_Notwritten—it's finally sunny again now, so it's better. Thank you. :)_

_Aysuh—yes, they're opposites in every way it seems, except the belief in magic. It's hard to get them together, but they do want it, so that helps._

_MadHatter427—it thickens even more! How much more can it take?! Poor Sarah…_

_CoffeeKris—(scared) no, j/k. That makes me happy! I like "King Cocky McTightpants". Well, Sarah was standing on her own…now she's all curled up on her side…at Jareth's mercy, or lack thereof. Two chapters for you._

_Elliesmeow—I think I'm subconsciously sabotaging myself to keep away from that happy resolution, 'cause then the fic will be over. Angst just flows from my fingertips, I guess…_

_AmericanWoman—nice to see you found it! Linda is quite done for now, and Sarah will never submit permanently, but she is very upset right now. Jareth needs to realize he doesn't really want her broken after all, but full of fire and fight._

_Anna McNarin—I feel very good about that, thank you. Here's to more escapism!_

_Natsuko37—she is indeed quite crushed right now. It finally hit her. Nobody knows yet what the Light wants, except it, of course. It's hard to be contrary when you don't know what you're not supposed to be doing._


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter Sixteen**

One eye opened, the other protested, but finally the lid lifted, and she realized her eyes felt puffy and gummy. That made sense, since she'd cried herself to sleep after the horror she'd endured.

'A trick of Jareth's…' her tired mind protested. But she knew better. The memories that had flashed through her mind felt right, like she'd had the steam wiped off of bathroom mirror; a glass wall come clean to reveal the truth it had previously hidden. Linda had wished her away, and Jareth had come, and given her a book.

Ordinarily she'd pick at the mystery, wonder why he'd given her such a gift, how many others had received a book, was she special aside from her status as his enemy, why, why, why?

Instead her mind was quiet, and she stared unseeing at the far off black wall in her line of sight. It crossed her mind that she could escape back to the white void, but to what purpose? She would have to return here eventually in order to get back home.

Home. It seemed impossible to reach now. Did she even want to return? She didn't want to do anything. Surely she was well past her time limit now, anyway. What did that mean now? She turned restlessly at the thought, discovered she lay in a bed, and let the realization pass away from notice as unimportant, not even considering that the pillows bore a faint masculine scent mingling with her own.

Was she was currently ignoring with everything in her was the fact that wherever her mother was, she was already such a monster inside that the lack of a half-soul would make no difference personality-wise.

.

Jareth was in good spirits, smiling to himself as he left his goblin court. Every so often it was wise to check up on his fellow Fae, and other mystical creatures. He walked easily between worlds, by means of old games and invitations, and other such chicanery. He rarely paid the socially mandatory annual visit to Court at Festival, save for a private visit to exchange greetings with the ruler of the Court, with whom he sometimes swapped citizens for specialized projects. He could take nearly anything he wanted by force, but that way was so common. So boring…so wasteful. Certainly crude enough a method for a being of his talents.

But sneaking, spying, stealing…he did a lot of that. And so did the shadowkin, the lesser dark creatures; the Raathje of the wind-world; the Eyths elementals; the Fae in general…the stupid ignorant Kaska da as they were usually called—which meant "essence thieves" in the Ancient Language that spawned the tongues of many worlds—who stole magic and went by the racial name "humans". And many other creatures one must guard oneself against.

Jareth's crystals, unbeknownst to Sarah, were more than just baubles of incidental power. They could transport people and objects, they could hide things, and more because they were truly portals, windows between any two places Jareth wanted them to be. Unseen spies, they allowed him greater access to knowledge than any other creature, because they too went between worlds wherever darkness went.

He collected a larger amount of energy than usual to tune a fist-sized crystal to Court and let it spin slowly in mid-air, gathering images and sounds for his later perusal. If anything interesting showed, he could send crystals after a particular group or individual. The Fae guards may feel when a living creature was watching them, but they had no intuitive sense of Jareth's crystals, for the shiny trinkets bore no will of their own, or even an artificial intelligence. They were just as glass decorations to them, no more a threat than a wine goblet on a table, even if they could have been seen.

He spent some time in his innermost chambers, doing this for all the worlds he kept an eye on, and finally he lowered himself to the edge of his bed, pondering Sarah's words before the forget-spell on her had broken.

'Did you know we're in a war?'

Jareth had lived in the darkness for a time beyond recall. It was his natural element. He was magical, yes, but unlike Sarah had been born to the elements—not just the earthly ones most mortals knew of but the unseen ones perceived by few. He was chosen by no one; he simply was. Magic was his from his first early understanding of its existence, and his loathing of all who scrimped and stole "essence" from another or a different world was legendary. It was probably for that reason alone he allowed the dwarves to live somewhat unmolested in his land, because they were sensible enough to accept they were a race without magic, period. Being proud of it was peculiar, but nothing to annoy him.

Sarah…Sarah was an exception to the rule of no human, no kaska da, having magic by acceptable means, as were all favored whether they knew it or not. His instinctive disgust with her humanness was tamped down a little by that, as well as by all of her other revoltingly appealing natural charms.

But what was frustrating was her continued naivety and stubborn resistance. War. What a laughably simple word. Light was his eternal enemy, and all its chosen ones had set about to destroy the evil darkness. None had succeeded, had even come close, until Sarah and her predecessor. And no one except Sarah had ever gotten so fully…what was that mortal phrase? Under his…shirt…no…skin, yes, that was it.

Light continually tried to kill darkness. Light was stupid, and blinding, and not at all restful. But people worshipped it, adored it, and never failed to cheer on its triumph over darkness.

Sarah was his most formidable enemy yet, in many regards. Well, he was more than up to the task of humbling her, and perhaps the Light had better chose its next warrior more wisely.

.

When Sarah finally opened her eyes again she saw Jareth gazing coolly down on her. Emotionally exhausted to the point of careless bravery, she got to her feet in order to look him almost in the eye. She swayed as her blood rushed around and her vision went gray in the corners. She found her head against his chest before his arms went to hold her upright a few inches away.

"You now belong to me," he said.

'Well, skip the preamble and tell me what you're really thinking.'

"You cannot return to your world, ever."

She laughed humorlessly. "Do you think I'll ever stop trying?" Hearing him deny her freedom renewed her urge to fight a little bit.

He smiled, to her eyes, an ugly arrogant smile. "You do not understand, Sarah," he said in a voice like velvet being turned into music and poured softly into her ears. "Your mother—the only creature that was bonded to you by blood and to this world by experience—is not on earth to call you home. You have not won the game in the set time limit. You are no longer free to do with yourself as you please."

"What did you do with her?" she asked tonelessly, ignoring his other words.

"Your only concern need be my happiness. Perhaps if you please me, you shall have food, shelter, and pleasant company."

"Yours?" She narrowed her eyes. "I'd rather sleep in the bog."

"That can be arranged," he replied easily, tightening his grip on her arms. She began to squirm. "The first thing you shall do is admit your failure to me—publically proclaim your utter defeat and beg for my mercy."

"Never," she said flatly.

"A few days without food might change your mind." Again his hold hardened, and she rose on her toes resisting the pull forward.

"I can leave whenever I want," she threatened.

He laughed delightedly—it would have been a beautiful sound if it had been made for any other reason—and succeeded in pulling her back to him, entrapping her with one arm and caressing her hair with the other. She turned her head sideways so that she could still breathe, clenching her fists at her side. "Forever? Only to return here when my patience is stretched thin? No, I think you will not do that."

He not only knew her too well, he seemed to know she could not simply vanish back home. Maybe he was right—there was no going back without someone to call her. Hers was an empty threat; her own curiosity, rebellion, her need to go back to earth, would draw her again and again back into his castle, and with his spies on the watch for her it would be a return to capture and imprisonment every time.

"Would you care to rehearse your speech?" he asked with a gleam in his eyes. "You may kneel at my feet now, if you desire. I understand you have a love of practice."

She wrenched her hands up at this not so subtle reference of his crystal-stalking of her and tried to shove at him. When that didn't work she aimed lower but he held her too tightly to allow her to pack a punch to his more sensitive areas.

He jerked his arm out and flung her around to hold her captive from behind with her arms crossed over her chest. "Be careful where your hands wander, Sarah, or I might think you want my carnal attention," he breathed in her ear. Goosebumps flew down her arms. Then abruptly he was gone.

No—she was. An awful smell hit her like a wall and she stumbled backwards in confusion and tripped. Gagging, her eyes watering so badly she couldn't see, she wandered about until she found the direction the stench grew less and went that way in until she ran up against a rocky wall she couldn't climb. Her nose was starting to drip by this point, as if the smell—every spoiled food, every dead thing, every noxious body odor and more all rolled into one and overwhelming—were clearing out her sinuses in the most awful manner possible.

Her hands wandered over the wall. She had to close her eyes because of the watery triple vision and stumbled to the left, trying to find a way up. Here and there she felt cracks, lines, almost in a pattern, and suddenly she remembered Ludo's song and the rolling rocks seen far off from the castle balcony. Was this the wall he'd been building?

No, it couldn't be, she realized when she fell into a cave and dropped to her hands and knees crawling along the uneven path. It was too far away from the castle. This must have been built long ago. Her head bumped into the end of the tunnel and she rested against the wall. The smell was still enough here to almost make her vomit, but slowly her vision cleared and her nose stopped running.

And there she stayed for the rest of the day, into the cold night, shivering, but unable to move forward without her belly wringing itself in knots. After several nauseating hours, she finally allowed herself to cry.

.

As he'd expected, Sarah did not call his name for help within the first day, surely still in a sort of shock at how quickly her fortunes had turned. He sent a crystalline spy out to float over the Bog-land and found her huddled in a small fissure in the rock wall he'd had that beast Ludo make when his goblin citizens kept falling into Bog. The few that got back out and found their way back home bore such an awful stench even that in their presence his enchanted plants wilted. The only good thing was that until the scent wore off—in a few decades—the creatures loss their own sense of smell and served as useful guards in barren outposts.

The second morning he found her weeping on her side, sort of moaning to herself. She had to be hungry by now, if she could even think of food. Still, no cry for help. He could wait her out. He went about his business as usual, following up on his tracking of otherworldly beings, setting darkness against their natural powers in order to keep his land one of the more dominate empires.

Labyrinth-Kingship demanded he stay alert, for he was not the only preternatural ruler interested in gaining more than he gave. Sarah was driven from his thoughts temporarily as the Eyth Queen attempted to send spies into his land while openly asking for alliance against the fire-dwelling Sprites who wanted to steal some of her eternal fire. Fire was a light source, and so the Sprites were his enemies, whereas Queen Mahanya worshipped all natural elements, including darkness, and was generally neutral to Jareth. He aided her in subduing the Sprites while also destroying her little scouts save the one he held for interrogation. She left pretending gratitude but with a much warier tone than before, recognizing any secrets the spy held might soon be compromised. Jareth bade her farewell cordially, setting up his own guards around the enemy agent in watch for attempts on its life before he could get what he wanted out of it.

On the dawn of the fourth day he remembered his other special captive. Somewhat concerned for her health—that she might expire before he got what he wanted out of her—he summoned her via another crystal and it deposited a pale, unconscious Sarah onto his bed. She had dark circles under her eyes and was a little thinner, though still very pretty to his eyes. He regarded her, puzzled.

"What must I do to break you?" he wondered aloud to her still form, which shuddered at his touch upon her face. She turned in her sleep onto her side, facing him, and curled her knees up to her stomach.

"Still you defy me, still you will not submit." His jaw tightened. "Then still you shall suffer. Back to the Bog you shall go."

But…she was so temptingly vulnerable. He pulled off his glove and lowered his fingers to her face. Magic hummed beneath his skin in his veins but did not break free as he traced her lips. Why limit himself to her face? He sat down beside her and caressed her neck, then trailed his hands down her arms, pausing at her sleeves long enough to push them up to see the slenderness of her pale wrists. He could easily encircle them with his thumb and pinky, further proof of her daintiness, which he liked.

He was not, of course, prone to the same helpless attraction to a woman that any mortal man was. He could stop at any time. He pulled off his other glove and dropped them both on the floor before running his hands down her sides and sliding them up the gentle curves of her waist underneath her shirt, feeling the silkiness of her skin.

'This is nothing more than the allure of having a new toy,' he reminded himself, 'a soon-to-be defeated foe.' Oh, he burned with an unacknowledged need to consume her like fire, but her rightful place was at his feet. As a king of nigh unlimited power, he refused to show eagerness equal to her fear of intimacy, and it was time he regain control of his desire.

So when his hands withdrew and made their way slowly, thoughtfully up to her breasts, previously unexplored territory for all of her adolescent fascination with him, he considered his actions a mere display of dominance. He pushed aside her open vest and gripped her softness through her shirt, considering banishing her clothes. He decided the anticipation was more fun, and kneaded her skin lightly. She stirred in her sleep, responding to his touch, the first pleasant thing she had experienced in a long time.

He almost regretted his earlier decision after undoing a few buttons and discovering some complicated device covering her breasts, which consisted of some sort of wire-tough material on the bottom and lacy bits at the top, and seemed to loop around her body as well as bearing straps over her shoulders without any lacings or ties to undo, on the front at least. He stopped; resting his palms against her, twitching his thumbs slowly across her cloth-covered nipples in a way that made her wriggle, drawing her back to consciousness.

Okay, he hadn't dallied with a mere mortal woman in quite some time, and he knew how vain they were about their undergarments, which tended to be ridiculously complicated and cumbersome. But this was something new to him. Simple and yet confounding.

'What in the worlds is she wearing?' he wondered, pulling his hands back towards her stomach. His irritation sent a spark running down his arms and before he realized what was happening, hit her bare skin like electricity.

She jumped at the jolt and he barely remembered to magic her shirt buttoned again before he waved a hand over her, entrapping her in a giant crystal and sending her speeding on her way. It wouldn't do for her find herself once again in his bed, his hands playing over her, and think him unable to resist her. No, he wanted her willing submission before he granted her his touch. At least, he wanted that when she wasn't enraging him into groping her…

He donned his gloves again and watched as she awoke back in the cave, putting her hand to her forehead and trying to stand. She was flushed, and her fingers curled at her chest, rubbing unconsciously at herself. He smiled as she wobbled dizzily and turned to look in the direction of the castle, biting her lip.

Then she called his name.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter Seventeen**

He expected to summon her right back, pleased with himself, anticipating continuing what he had started. But when he reached for her magically…another force rose against him, resisting. When he tried to pull back it was as if he was being sucked into a void not of his own making. A flash of light, and he himself was teleported to a place he had never seen.

Twilight over rocky ground dotted with white-petal flowers growing incongruously right out of the dirt, no grass surrounding them, no water to be seen and no clouds. The sky above shifted in muted colors rapidly, rippling like waves.

Had Sarah summoned him instead of the other way around? How? He shifted his balance and look around, summoning and banishing a crystal easily; he was not without his powers here. Did she think to imprison him in turn?

"Where are we?" came Sarah's weak voice behind him. He whirled around, barely hearing her words as energy rushing invisibly to his hand at his call, eyes narrowed dangerously. Had she been practicing her magic all this time, while he, unwary, did not look upon her? Perhaps she now imagined herself a viable threat to him—well, he would put an end to that notion soon enough!

"What have you done?" he growled, advancing on her. "Do you think to hold me here?"

She backed away, hands at her sides. "What! I didn't do anything! I mean…" She stumbled and fell unceremoniously onto her rear, looking up at him. "I was trying to call you…!" She tried to scramble up but her arms gave way and she lay on her back, panting for breath, dangerously pale.

He stopped at her side, looming over her. "You tried to summon me?"

She blinked. "I tried…to get your attention," she sighed. With a burst of light, she was gone.

Incomprehension fueled a growing rage and he summoned her right back, drawing on the eternal darkness to do so, because no one kidnapped the Goblin King and got away with it.

.

'What?' She appeared back at the Bog, instead of the void, as if she had come from there already. She tried again to mentally call to Jareth as before, even though he didn't seem to know what was going on anymore than she did. But despite all it felt safer to be around someone who was more used to magic and its strange ways, even someone as unpredictable as magic itself like the Goblin King.

She landed on unsteady feet before Jareth once again and he reached out and caught her by both arms and shook her. "How do you do this?" he hollered. Her head wobbled on her neck like a bobble-head doll, and she felt physically ill—she was ill. Finally, the lack of food overtook her once and for all and she passed out so quickly she didn't even have time to be relieved.

.

Sarah sagged against him, and no amount of threats could call her back to consciousness. He eyed her, considering just dropping her, but he'd never get a true answer on this unexpected power of hers if he let her crack her skull on the uneven ground here. And besides, losing her to death was not as satisfying as keeping her, or at least sending her there himself. He slid an arm under her knees and scooped her up. If Sarah could leave here, an area balancing both night and day, it was possible he could as well.

The next sight his eyes took in was the opposite wall of his bedroom chambers. Immediately he laid Sarah to rest on his bed, allowing himself one pang of regret at leaving her so long in the midst of his own stubborn pride, before he remembered he was livid about her developing new magic to use against him. Still…

Ignoring the floating crystal spinning in the middle of the room he summoned another, and brought Elmethan's image before him.

Her truncated figure showed, narrowing in on her face as she blinked at him in the sphere, as pale as he was. "Yes, Goblin King?" she said politely, her tone masking any surprise she might have felt. Elmethan was a Fae-Eyth Halfling living hidden from humans on earth in Ireland, where the veils between worlds were thin. All high-born Fae knew this, but she was a gifted Adept of the Light, and it was a fool's errand to come against her. She was little threat to most anyhow, and mostly ignored by her disgusted parent races.

"A request of Healing, Elmethan," he began, then hesitated to explain who it was for.

She narrowed her slanted eyes at him. "I need nothing from you. What do you offer for this favor?"

"Have you no desires of your own?"

She snorted, lifted her chin. "What would you give me? A gift of darkness? I neither need nor would accept that. Ally-hood? A place in your kingdom?"

She was going to wave her hand and end this conversation soon if he could not come up with something she wanted.

"Safe passage in certain areas of my kingdom—once—to seek your mother face to face," he offered confidently.

She went still, eyes widened. Her fascination for her relatives was well-known, but only her Fae mother would consent to see her without shame in her eyes. And the Fae Biranat, demoted to Handmaiden to Visiting Foreign Dignitaries, still occupied a high enough place in Court that it wasn't easy for her to slip away unaided to see her only child.

"That is no small promise," she said finally. "But the Light does not counsel me against this exchange, for reasons unknown." He did not explain and waited to see if she would continue on without the desired background information. "Bind yourself to me in this task, and I will to you."

"This matter is of course to be known only to ourselves," Jareth warned her, but they committed the Binding ceremony, which would ensure that they completed the undertaking at risk of loss of sanity if 

they did not do so in a timely fashion. Well, he probably wouldn't go insane, he was much too powerful, but the curse would distract him mightily if he broke his vow. He had no intention of doing so.

Elmethan asked him no more questions, no longer concerned for whom and why he had called her, but had him place the crystal over Sarah and tell him her full name, so that she may focus her magic on her. At first nothing happened, and he wondered if the light being was interfering. His jaw clenched.

"Ah," Elmethan said softly, and a golden glow rose from Sarah's body. His lip curled up automatically, but he endured the practice of apposing magic. After several minutes the sparkle drew back into Sarah's skin, leaving her as pale as before, still lacking a healthy flush.

"Why is she not well?" he demanded, glaring at the Halfling as the blood thundered in his ears. Energy sparked beneath his gloves angrily.

Elmethan was not impressed. "She gathered all of my transferred magic into herself; I can only assume she will heal herself now. Her unconscious mind would not allow me to direct the process." Her silvery brow rose skeptically. "What kind of mortal is this that you care for?"

"That is not your concern," he hissed at her, clenching his fists out of her sight, at once angry with himself for his show of un-control. "When will she regain consciousness?" Realizing he had to say something to salvage his reputation, he controlled his features. "I have business with her, and this form limits her own magic, or she would not be in this position."

There; a perfectly reasonable explanation that insinuated Sarah was not really a mortal after all. An illusionist of form herself while on earth, it should satisfy Elmethan with the implication that the girl was a shape-shifter, or doing something illicitly and so was hiding her identity. It made fine sense for her to be a friend of the Goblin King in that case, though the Light's permission for this venture surely puzzled her.

Her brow lowered and she accepted the answer. "She will be in a daze soon, and need to perform basic functions, eating and so forth. Then she will rest. I do not know for how long, that depends on the natural healing abilities of her true form. That is all I can tell you."

"Mm."

She pursed her lips at the lack of gratitude, but did not comment on it. "When will you make arrangements regarding my meeting?"

"The Court celebrates Festival soon; I cannot absent her from preparations or the ceremonies themselves. Immediately before it closes is best, when all are intoxicated in some manner or occupied with amorous pursuits." He hoped to show off his new pet mortal, the infamous former Conqueror, to the Emperor, and then himself be engaged with some ardent activity with his pretty little mortal in celebration of a new Season. It was uncertain if he would keep that schedule now.

She nodded, accepting his word, and the curse's tugging at his consciousness lessened, accepting his proposed timetable in lieu of immediate action.

"I will contact you," he said shortly, and banished the crystal.

_A/N: Sorry, I know it's been a long time. Family crisis put everything in a whirlwind. It's still not completely settled, but I wanted to update. /sigh/ I feel like this isn't my best, but hopefully it's decent._

_And Biranat is pronounced bee-rah(r rolled, pronounced the Japanese way)-naht, no emphasis—NOT BEER-uh-not. Just thought I'd throw that in. It bothered me to have ppl think of beer when they read her name. Eh._

_To my reviewers:_

_Jjellybean00--/smile/ No more happy dances? Aw. Well, Linda's out of the picture…for now. Duh duh duh._

_HazlgrnLizzy—Jareth is realizing there's a lot about Sarah and her magic he doesn't understand, but Sarah, unfortunately, is equally ignorant._

_Aysuh—sorry again for a long wait!_

_Anna McNarin—and two more chapters for more escapism fun!_

_Ginnabella59—thank you. :)_

_Cap'n Kspaz—yes, it is being very not-straightforward._

_Malika—I know they both want romance, but they're both so stubborn. They have to learn to understand one another first._

_Athenian Grace—thanks, hope you like the new chapters._

_Me—that's fine, when I post two chapters at a time you'll notice I only write commentary on one also. Don't worry too much about Sarah, she's favored—the light's looking out for her!_

_Natsuko37—I tried to explain that a bit more here, it wasn't the proper time before, but Linda is the only person who's been to the Underground to know where to call Sarah home from that also has a blood bond to her beside Toby, and Toby was too young to comprehend his surroundings. There's still a connection, yes, but not as strong as Linda's._

_CoffeeKris--smiles back I want cotton candy now. He started to ravish her…but she woke up too soon. Sorry._

_Reih—I'm honored you stayed up late for my fic (wee-hee!), and I hope you are not disappointed in the new chapters. Let me know if you still like this!_

_FireShifter—well, denial can cloud your head, eh? Ah, Sarah. Sorry I didn't respond to the message, I haven't much been online and did not check my email until today, for reasons explained in the a/n. I felt guilty when I saw that, so I dedicate these two chapters to you, for being so kind as to give me a little online nudge to get back to writing. I sat down when I saw that and wrote this!_


	19. Author's Note

So sorry this isn't an update. I just wanted to let everyone know why I haven't updated lately. You see, my computer was hacked and attacked and I couldn't even log in to it forever, nevermind use the internet, without it crashing every five minutes. I couldn't fix it until I saved up the money, but everything had to be wiped clean to remove the viruses. So I don't have my partial new chapter anymore, and I'll have to start over. I'm inthe process of doing so, but it'll be a while. Don't fret; I just need some time.

.

Amanthya


	20. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter Eighteen**

Sarah did indeed awaken, if one could call it that, with a pressing need to eat and perform natural functions. He left a female Elf there to attend her, as well as a Fairy to observe her while he absented himself to see to arranging Elmethan's meeting. This required some subtlty as he did not currently want to throw the Fae Court into disarray. Letting it be known that the disgraced noble-Fae was flouting the Emperor's orders of no-contact with the help of the Goblin King would only throw him into a tedious and time-consuming war.

Before he transported himself he Viewed through the eyes of his fairy-guard, who obediently swooped down closer to his captive on her bed. The bedding of her lush prison was pristine but her hair was limp, her skin smudged with dirt and her eyes lined with dark circles. She was a grubby mess against the clean blankets.

'And the ancient tales leave out the grime and stains, the exhaustion of mortals on quests,' he thought with amusement tempered with distaste. 'No matter.' He cast his magic through his servant, another sneaky trick of his no other Fae had ever thought to master: the untraceable extension of power through another being's presence.

Her hair lost its greasy overcast and assumed a healthy sheen as her replaced her juvenile style with something he felt was more suited to her soul. Ivory-white Tulag, a silk-soft material with the durability of heavy-cotton, spread across her cleansed form. It was a fairy-made material that he traded to the lesser nobles for their everyday-wear. But payment didn't even occure to him as he lavished his captive with it. Long, fitted sleeves extending to the tips of her fingers, a neckline lowered to just the right balance between innocence and risque that he knew would make her personally uncomfortable, tight enough to allow him to dispense with the upper under-garment. And sides that would appear embroidered when she stood still but split a few inches to reveal fine ruffled underlayers when she lengthened her stride--because what fun would it be if she couldn't run away for him to chase her?

He paused, then refreshed her panties instead of absenting them as well, because it would be far more enjoyable to remove them with his own hands later. And there she lay, a vision. Literally his vision of her ever since she had blossomed from a glow-eyed child into a young woman.

His attention had been drawn through out his long life to bold courtesans and exotic lovers, but that was pre-Sarah, before he had developed a secret weakness for the image of purity. 'Damn her for ruining my taste.' He withdrew the from the internal vision before he was distracted any further.

Releasing control back to a fairy always disoriented him for a split-second as his mind let go of its awareness of another physical form, but he ignored the customary shift of images in his mind from four eyes to two by simply closing his and considering. He could not simply appear within the royal grounds because the elemental protective charms, while not repelling him, would immediately alert the wardens of the type of magic and thus creature arriving. In this he was singularly cursed amongst the Fae; his race was naturally of lighter elemental natures and unless he took great pains to conceal his presence, he could be traced easily. He stood out from the masses like a tree in an empty field.

He would simply have to enter through the main gate like everyone else in order to avoid undue suspicion. He took himself to just outside view of the gate, guarded by Adepts of all natures owing eternal service to the Emperor, and apporached them in owl form, changing in front of them simply to remind them that he had powers they never would. They responded with practiced sneers, brows drawn together.

"What seek you in this place?"

"I have business to attend to," he said curtly. "It is no concern of yours."

Their eyes flashed as they scanned him; they could not read his mind, only layers of emotions attatched to his intentions. When they found no dissident attitude, no bitter rebellion in his heart, they had to let him pass. But he did not fail to see the hovering disruption in the air that followed him to the caste steps.

"I promise you," he said quietly with an edged smile, "you shall never find deception in my heart." The flickering increased angrily at the implication it could not truly read him, and vanished.

He stepped in past colorfully dressed Fae and visiting races, disregarding those who called his name as easily as he did the water and garden exhibits. They had to believe he sought out his usual courtesans, who would no doubt flit quickly to his side if he allowed himself to be slowed. He strode straight to the open audience chamber of Biranat, who was not in. Flicking a power mote at the shallow calling pool that held glittering gemstones connected to the Handmaiden's extended aura, he leaned his back against the wall. Because sitting was for weaklings and those taking tea.

Bisala, Handmaiden to the Royal Court, would likely be outraged to hear he had visited a lesser Handmaiden, but she did not know of his true reason for being here. But it was a large part of a Handmaiden's duty to see the physical pleasure of the court or dignitaries, and he did not care to bed a creature who occupied the chambers of so many Fae who were more troublesome than his actual enemies. Keeping company with her was an afront to his dignity, to say that he was so little skilled in the art of seduction that he sought the highest professional. Regular courtesans were one thing, to admit being lazy in practicing charming a female, but to actually HAVE to call upon Bisala? His musing were interrupted as Biranat shimmered into being in front of him, arriving already in a deep curtsy that let her black silken skirts puddle around her feet. "Goblin King," she said respectfully, rising slowly. Her hair matched her dress and was just as soft-looking, contrasting with skin as pale as his own. But her cool green eyes were clear and alert. Short in stature but not of sense, she waited for him to speak first.

"I have need of your company," he said dispassionately. "Inform the Lord of Household that you shall be accompanying me to my castle by way of my magic. I shall return you before the dining hour."

She lowered her head in a brief nod. Within the blink of an eye they were in a private chamber in his castle, once he actually kept specifically for the reason she believed she was here. Decorated with natural stones from his land, beautifully painted images, and in some places pure blazing magic, it reminded his lady guests exactly who they were dealing with. Biranat evidentally took the message to heart and waited seated quietly on the bed for direction. He stood before her.

"Dismiss your wards; I know they bind you to the minds of your masters for safety's sake. But you do not want to risk them hearing my offer." She merely lifted a brow. He smiled slightly. "I bring word of your daughter."

.  
.

She felt the intrusion of foreign magic through her being like a cool touch down her spine, but it wasn't Jareth's. It had a different...taste...than the forceful and oppressive dark elements that made up the Goblin King's signature thaumaturgy. After a while she recognized it as similar in feel to the light being that protected her, so she reached out and drew it in from the grayness that made up her world so that she held it close to her soul, and had all she needed. Then she pushed it away until it stopped flowing and it disappeared.

She held the little flame of life that had woken her close, wondering if she was dead, or near to it. She couldn't feel her body. Her own thoughts were random and scattering like leaves, and the single important one that floated to the surface of her conscious mind she merely poked at for what could have been an eternity before she paid it proper attention. Finally she concentrated on it, and light blossomed into being around her, familiar in its emptiness, but she could hear distant whispers.

"What are they?"

"You are here in spirit," came her answer, clearer than before. 'And so you hear the cries of the others wandering the pathways between life and death.'

"Is that where I am?" she asked, a little horrified she had died before...well, getting the chance to do a lot of things.

A hint of amusement now, without any exasperation. There never was any negative emotion at all, no matter how she acted or what she said. "You are with me."

"Then where are they?"

"In the gray worlds," it said.

She wanted to nod, and then remembered she wasn't physically there. She was probably still back at the bog, while Jareth bided his time until she gave up for good.

Jareth...

"Are there dark worlds?" she asked, already knowing the answer. What she didn't know was why she hoped the Goblin King was nearby, perhaps close enough to sense.

"...yes-yes" said the being, whose tone fractured into several voices. It came to her that it did that when it was upset. "You cannot access them."

"You mean from here," she dug, trying as ever to get more information out of it.

"YOU cannot access them," it clarified, gathering itself into one being again. "You do not have the heart for it."

What, was that a challenge? She couldn't handle the big bad dark world?

"Your heart is too pure for the darkness to bear your presence," it continued finally.

"Ohh..." She was always misinterpreting, always misunderstanding and making mistakes. 'I can't do this anymore, not like this. Ignorance sucks.'

"Tell me," she began, intent on gathering data on the other worlds, when she realized it didn't matter. What did matter was beating Jareth in his own game, which okay, she had already failed. But perhaps she could learn to neutralize him. Stall him enough to make him understand he couldn't keep her. It was too much to hope for that he'd lose interest, but perhaps he'd grow tired of a magical standstill and back off for a while. And she was sure there was no way she could ever catch up to his learning enough to browbeat him into returning her mother.

Did she want him to? She stopped her frantic internal calculations as she pondered this, the light waiting patiently without interrupting. Linda had divested herself of human connections a long time ago, but that was forgivable. What wasn't was giving up her own daughter to save her skin!

The air rippled around her in response to her surge of anger, and the whisperings quieted.

'Not her skin,' she thought as magic flickered around her fragile consciousness in the light realm, threatening to cut off the connection. 'Her beauty. So she was born ugly and her mom messed with magic. She could've returned it, even now. There IS plastic surgery nowadays! She could afford it!'

"Sarah," the light addressed her as her long-suppressed realizations fed the fury in her heart. "You must calm yourself."

"How can I?!" she yelled. The glow around her dimmed. Frightened, she cut off her train of thought. Wherever she was, the light was the only ally she had. She couldn't afford to make it mad at her.

"You cannot use my gift with a heart full of bitterness, or anger. They turn to hate, the darkest of all emotions," it warned her gently.

She went quiet. The anger was still there, but it was no longer threatening to leap out of control and consume her--she couldn't let it. She pushed it out of her mind with effort, as well as her burgeoning curiosity about the dark worlds, and whoever ruled them. The source of Jareth's magic? Perhaps.

"Teach me," she said finally. The muted voices of the gray worlds began again, uneasy and rapid. She barely heard them, but wondered if they were afraid of her--Sarah Williams, goody-two-shoes. What a laugh! If only she was in the mood to.

"You wish to know, still, of the Goblin King"s origin?'

Yes... "No. Not now. I need to know--I need to know how to use MY magic. I can't keep getting jerked around by him because I don't know what I'm doing."

"You wish to defeat him?" it probed further. If it could read her mind, it should've been able to read her heart, she thought, but apparently it couldn't. "To destroy him?" It's tone was tinged with the suggestion of other voices, almost inaudible echoes.

"Yes. I want to. But I can't. And I--won't, wouldn't, even if I could," she stammered slightly, trying to gather her thoughts. "I just don"t want him to have any power over me anymore." After all... 'I thought he didn't anymore already...'

Her admission seemed to sign some unseen contract that allowed the light permission to fully explain things to her. "You mother has created a new bargain, and given the power of her blood's hold on you to the Goblin King."

"She gave me away." She wanted to set her jaw angrily, but couldn't. It was just as well.

"She did not give you away," the light contradicted her.

What?

It repeated itself. "She gave up her connection to you. Her blood, on earth, did nothing more than bond you in the love born automatically between a parent and child. Had she nurtured it, it would have allowed her a greater insight into your being, and perhaps, as a child of gypsies that meddled in magic, a supernatural sense of your emotions whatever the distance between you. But on other lands, especially on ones of magic and as a bearer of magic herself--"

"Stolen magic," she muttered.

"Nonetheless, her magic amplified her hold on you. She could draw you to her in times of great need, had she held firmly to your bond. The Goblin King's own hold on you, born not of your dueling natures but fascination for each other because of that," she mentally clenched her hands at this, "was strengthened by this borrowed magic. He can follow you, wherever you go, save here. He can sense your faintest presence across the worlds by simply thinking of you. Your being a child in relation to Linda, who has given her bond with you to him, places you in a subservient position to him. You will always have to fight the urge to give in to him, to do as he asks out of love or need or simply his dominant position in your relationship."

"Okay?" she said when it trailed off without explaining how exactly this information was to help her. "So how come I can call him now? He could always call me--"

"He can summon anyone already in his own land," the light continued easily. "You can call him because of your gift and unique bond to him. No other creature can request his presence so strongly that it forces awareness of their desire into his mind. And when you call for each other you create access to a place that belongs to only yourselves, a neutral ground that is both yours and his, and neither one of yours, fully."

"A safe place for our magics," she mused. "Anyway, we're going off on a tangent. How can I break this bond between us? The one my mother gave him?"

"Since it amplifies a bond already in existence, you must destroy your original connection."

"B-but," she sputtered. "How am I supposed to do that? What's that based on--our opposite natures?" she managed, trying to remember exactly what the light had said earlier.

"Your fascination for each other," it reminded her. "Yours, because he is not of your world, yet he was everything you feared and everything you wanted. He has purposely acted in a way to further your interest in him."

"Heh!" she snorted. It waited. "Okay," she relented. Honesty-the-best-policy and all that. "But what about him? What does he feel for me?"

"That you shall have to discover on your own." Before she could protest it went on blithely. "Shall I teach you how to use the light around you to create a barrier? Or perhaps to more fully control your teleportation?"

She ignored it for several heartbeats worth of time, wanting to cross her arms and turn her head away. But of course she couldn't. "How about you teach me how to heal myself? I seem to need that a lot."

"That is a skill for someone who has mastered the lesser talents," it said casually. "You must first practice use of the light outside of your body."

"Manipulating it?" she asked, interested despite the light's dismissal of her most urgent concern.

"No," it said firmly. "That is an action of darkness, to take and use without asking. Before conducting any magic outside of defensive while being attacked by dark magic, which has already tipped the balance, you must quickly sense the worlds around you. Would your use of the light upset the elements? Is your request unacceptably selfish? If not, you may proceed. I will teach you to feel the balance, and then how to use your gift. You will learn fast."

"You don't know that," she warned. "Murphy's law, you know. It's not like I have that kind of luck."

"But you do," it said simply.

.  
.

_A/N: I promise to get back to individual replies on the next chapter, but for now I simply wanted to get this posted, since you've waited long enough. I hope it's good. Please forgive any typos, I'm using notepad._

_To my reviewers: Thank you for your patience! I was going to send away for the programs that I had to get wiped from the computer, like Microsoft Word, but then it started to freeze up on me again, which not only would make doing that a waste of time, but got in the way of my writing. And to be honest, this chapter was extremely hard to write. Sarah would not cooperate at all, she was all, "I wanna know this, I wanna know that". She wanted to get her turn kicking-butt, but first she's got to learn to use her magic or she'll never be able to stand up to Jareth. And Jareth, well, he refuses to figure out his feelings for Sarah, but if he doesn't locate his heart soon, it's going to be a moot point 'cause she's going to be so pissed off by then it won't matter. Ugh! These two! But don't worry, I will do my best to be true to them while making sure they grow as characters, even if it's against their wills._

_POLL: I'm debating on whether or not I should include Festival and the Fae Court in the future, since Jareth is involved in it somewhat, with arranging Biranat and Elmethan's clandestine meeting. Are you guys interested in that, or do you want it to stick more to Sarah and Jareth's private battle?_

_As a side note to Natsuko37 on on the "rolled r's" of Japanese, that's how my sensei had to explain it to those with hopelessly American accents who just couldn't grasp the concept Japanese r's are not like the more flat, simple American r's._


	21. Chapter Nineteen

**Chapter Nineteen**

He had anticipated having trouble keeping an eye on all of his lands and citizens, Elmethan, Biranat, and Sarah at the same time. But the goblins were no more troublesomet than usual, Elmethan sought only her mother, and Biranat was not left alone for a single second to take inventory or steal magic. This was because Sarah did not once stir in her deep slumber as he arranged paths the mother and daughter could not deviate from, natural and supernatural barriers on all sides and faeries hovering around them at all times. There was nothing to distract him, nothing at all.

It was driving him crazy.

"She's got to wake sometime!" He snarled, pacing around his bedroom, wishing he had a goblin to kick, but they weren't allowed in his private chambers. He stepped around the floating crystal collecting data on other worlds as if he was gravitating around it like a planet did its sun. Finally he flicked a small sphere up and stared again down Sarah's still image, wondering if he'd truly pushed her over the edge. It was a disappointing thought; he'd expected more from Sarah personally, especially since she was favored.

He was impeccably dressed as always, in a solid black leather vest and a long-sleeved dark red shirt, black pants and boots, similar to the outfit he'd worn when he had taunted Sarah with crystals and Toby just before she'd defeated him. He'd been almost as frustrated with her obliviousness then as now, an irony that did not occur to him when he picked out his wardrobe this morning. His hair was in its usual wild state, and his eyes narrowed in a familiar expression of displeasure. But inside he was seething in a whole new way.

How did she do this to him? No one else could make him so angry by merely not waking up.

'As long as she remains unconcious, I cannot win,' he raged inwardly. He ignored the thought that he was deeply concerned she might die; it was unbefitting for him to show concern over a captive.

He was about to toss away the crystal when he lifted it higher, peering more closely into it. Was that a twitch? No...

He realized he'd held his breath for her, truly captivated by her slightest seeming movement.

"Is this what I've become?" he wondered slowly, closing his fist on the sphere until it dissipated in his hand. "Then my enemy has me right where it wants me...which is unacceptable."

Perhaps he should just kill her now, and be done with it. Tempting thought.

He transported himself to her side, dismissing the Elf and the fairy to rest. He raised his hand quickly to her, summoning his magic before he could look too long at her face and wish again that she would plead with him for mercy. She had no desire for his mercy, and was incapable of crying long even for her mother. He had to be rid of her before she gathered her strength again--if she did. This unending cycle of him chasing and her retreating served no purpose. He extended his hand directly over her heart.

She turned her head to the side on her pillow and he paused, wondering if he had imagined it. But her chest rose and fell in a deep sigh before her breathing evened out again. He lowered his hand back to his side, titling his head to study her.

"So," he murmured. "Still, you toy with me. Just when I am ready to be done with you, you remind me that humans are far more fickle and unpredictable than Fae know."

She continued breathing steadily.

"Was this a timely show?" he addressed the air, lifting his chin slightly, knowing the bright one could hear him. "Luckily she moves and I spare her out of a desire to crush her with my own hands when she awakens? No," he sneered. "I will not wait for that. It ends now."

But why not have some fun? He blinked as the thought occured to him. Intimacy with an lifeless partner did not appeal to him, but pain was always good.

Why not? He decided to go with it, brushing aside the anticlimatic manner of Sarah's ending. Screaming would have added to his pleasure, but perhaps he could wring a pain-filled moan from her unconcious body. Yes, why not...? He removed his gloves, letting his natural powers rise to the surface of his skin uninhibited.

He pushed the covers off of her with the force of his magic and regarded her form, trying not to notice the healthy flush in her cheeks. She was going to die today.

Where to start? So many nerve endings...

The magic crackled on his fingertips but as he searched her body his gaze was drawn inevitably to her face, which was serene in her sleep, even as her lips twitched slightly as though she were going to speak.

If she did die today, he would never again have the chance to touch her. The fact that such a realization made him uneasy told him that he was being manipulated, and that he should simply do away with her as soon as possibly.

"But it is still a true thought," he said to himself. Why not enjoy a bit of it?

'Because it is a delaying tactic,' he knew.

"All the same," he argued with himself, reaching out to touch her lips, making them go still as he explored their softness. Wondering where to touch her next, he was struck by the thought that he'd never kissed her. He'd offered her dreams, his world, his undivided attention, romantically, and yet he had rarely touched her, even to confuse her. When he had allowed his fingertips to trail down her neck at their reunion in her room, drawing her breath out of her in surprise, it had been a calculated move. When was the last time he'd simply indulged his sense of touch for fun? Gratification of any kind, particularly physical, used to occupy a large chunk of his time.

Ah, but that was before Sarah. Now he had no desire to touch anyone else.

She moved her head a bit again as he seated himself on the bed beside her, her warm breath blowing across the back of his hand as he braced himself so as not to unbalance the mattress. It was a long-forgotten sensation, to be touched by someone else. And he had not wanted that for some time.

So, he told himself reasonably, it was perfectly logical to indulge himself with the only object of his desire--Sarah--before her timely demise.

His mind made up, he bent down to experiment, and pressed his lips softly to hers.

An immediate warmth and hunger flooded through him, and he was leaning over her with one hand in her hair before he realized what a terrible mistake he had made.

.

.

She was being slowly pushed back into her body, as though she were fading into it like a fog dissolving in reverse, and each moment brought her new sensations. But the most pressing one was both instantly recognizeable and completely unfamiliar.

She was being kissed.

'Jareth,' she knew instantly, without a doubt. But why? 'Is he raping me?!'

But she wasn't being touched anywhere else yet, so if that was what he'd decided to he hadn't gotten very far into it yet. 'Lucky me.'

She became aware of everything, the weight of her body on the bed, the temperature in the room, the darkness behind her eyelids and the solid warmth of Jareth leaning over her. He parted her lips with his own and sought to taste every corner of her mouth, stroking her tongue with his own and good gods, he tasted good!

She was arching into him and humming in pleasure deep in her throat when her brain caught on to her predicament, appalled it had lost control of the situation. She'd been horrified at his actions only seconds before!

He pulled back to see her open her eyes and she found herself reaching for him.

"If I had known this was what you were waiting for, I would have done this sooner," he began with his customary mocking tone. But he cut himself short, his eyes darkening, and lowered himself again. She wrapped her arms around him, sliding her hands down his back, into his hair, trying to touch any part of him that she could. But all too soon her physical weakness overwhelmed her--Jareth's dizzying kisses making it worse--and she dropped her weight back onto the bed, panting for air.

He remained hovering over her, one arm around her, his hand supporting her head as it had been caressing her hair seconds earlier. He regarded her, she saw when she looked up, with a disturbingly blank expression.

"You do not deny me," he said.

Confused, her brow wrinkled as she regained some control. 'What?'

"You refuse me with your words," he said slowly, "but your body responds easily to me. You are mine now, and you could have more than this; I know you want it. Then why do you bother fighting me at all?" His brows lifted slightly, as if he was merely puzzled by something trivial. As if she was not fighting for her freedom.

She snapped to, horrified that she was not more horrified at what he had done, what she had done. She was in the middle of a war here and she'd gotten distracted into submitting herself into the one activity she wanted to avoid more than anything! Even more than publically declaring her defeat and pleading for mercy he did not have, she did not want to go to his bed.

Well, maybe just once.

"What are you thinking, Sarah?" he asked smoothly, not releasing his hold on her. "Do you seek to pretend this never happened?" The corner of his lips turned up.

She shook her head in denial; it would not be just once, it would be any time he wanted after that, and he would gloat all the more each time. Worse, he'd probably be a wonderful lover, and she'd humiliate herself begging for him even after he tired of her.

"Get off me!" she demanded loudly, trying to keep the shaking out of her voice.

"No," he said simply. "I think I will finish what I started."


	22. Chapter Twenty

**Chapter Twenty**

He was inwardly shaken at how he had lost control of his desire for her, but at least she didn't know it. He showed no sign of it, and she was wrapped up in her own attraction and denial. Just the way he liked it.

He lowered his head again, knowing she would turn her head away. Good. He kissed her earlobe, nibbling gently, and slid his tongue up along the curve of her ear, tantalizing every sensitive nerve ending along the way. She gasped and went still, and he knew without looking that her eyes had gone wide. He smiled to himself before sliding down a bit to kiss at her neck, covertly checking her pulse, which was racing. He sucked at the skin, intending to leave a mark.

"Jareth," she moaned helplessly, just the way he'd fantasized she would, hands clutching helplessly at the bedcloths, her breath rapid. It sent his blood surging even more forcefully through his body and he knew that he had to have her soon. His magic tingled across his skin, sparking onto her, but he couldn't tell if it brough pain or pleasure by the way she sucked in her breath sharply. She gripped the blankets so hard her arms was shaking but did not try to pull away. He let his hand glide down the smoothness of her sleeve and then sideway and back up, across her trembling belly to cup a breast. He squeezed gently, rubbing her bare skin with thumb just above where her nipple peaked under the material. She strained upwards for his touch, then went as still as possible.

He couldn't help but grin as he touched her. Was she finally giving in completely?

If she gave her body to him...it was only a matter of time until she surrendered totally.

.

.  
The way his hands and lips moved across her skin, she could hardly think straight. She tried to tell herself he was her enemy, that he wanted only to dominate and use her, that his obsession over all these years was purely a side-effect of having too much pride. But when he lowered his head to mouth gently at her breasts, letting his tongue get precariously close to her nipples, she almost lost it.

'Think of something else! Something unsexy...oh, I want him so bad...'

For some reason, maybe it was her wanton attitude tagging a long-buried memory of similar behavior in someone close to her, or maybe it was just simple luck, but Linda's face swam before her mind's eye. It was as if she'd been doused in cold water, and she stopped breathing, going completely still but remaining tense.

Jareth sensed her mood change, and drew back with a look of wary disbelief on his face.

Before he could weave his spell around her again, she quickly Sensed. It was a defensive situation; she had the green light.

She made a cocoon of pure light that sent him leaping back, snarling like a cat deprived of its kill. She allowed its lifting warm waves to push her up until she could sit, grateful not only for its protection but that it replenished her depleted strength.

"So you still fight me?" he spat at her angrily, his ego hurt, no doubt. She tried desperately to clear her mind, to remember her spells.

She had never really seen him enraged the way he was now. He lifted his hand and a wave of darkness smashed against her barrier, and she cried out in fear and she fell back against the pillows and the wall, expecting to thump her head painfully. But the shield held.

"So you have learned a thing or two in your absence, Sarah," he said darkly. "But it will not save you. Not now."

"Wait!"

He laughed cruelly. "It is too late to take back what you have done. I offered my affections, and you rejected them. Now you will take my wrath instead."

Affections?! More like offered to use her up and throw her away! At least last time he'd offered to be--

Her eyes went painfully wide despite the harsh glow of her protective barrier.

'What does he feel for me?'

'Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave...'

She stared at him, smiling his grimly arrogant smile, readying his attack, and the most foolish feeling bubbled up in her.

She laughed.

He stopped, startled.

She laughed hysterically.

His brows lowered. "Your death amuses you?" he asked coldly, unable, it seemed, to contain his curiousity before he killed her.

'Oh no. Oh my God, no.'

She gripped her own hair, then pushed it out of her face, trying once more to regain some air. "Of course you did it this way. You don't know how not to, right?" She was giggling again but trying to stifle it, and a horrible depression took up residence in her chest, lowering her head as the laughing fit died off.

"What?" he snapped, completely lost, and he apparently didn't like it.

She stared down at her hands, noticing her dress for the first time. Another fairy-tale creature. "I thought you just hated losing, that you hated me. But that's not what you hate, is it?"

"No," he said in a sarcastic tone she'd never heard him use before. It jolted her. "I don't mind at all being bested by a foolish mortal girl aided by my immortal enemy."

The war. She'd forgotten about it. Looking at her new realization in light of that inescapeable fact made it all the more sad.

"I certainly do not mind," he continued, advancing upon her flickering shield, "my magic being stolen and used by humans, who wish away their children as if my land was their dumping ground--and then being treated like the monster I am BECAUSE I fulfilled their selfish desires." She just looked at him, perplexed by his last sentence. "Yes, I took them, but they were unwanted, and wished away. And my creatures are not magical containers waiting for the next foolish human to decide to empty them out. And YOU," he stabbed a finger at her face, "are a mockery of everything the Labyrinth stands for."

"How!" she demanded. "That's bull! I won fair and square!"

He barked a laugh at her, not in the least bit amused. "You have never done anything 'fair and square' in your life. Everything you've done was aided by that light creature, and you ran my maze and learned your lessons and never had to give anything up."

She just stared at him in bewilderment as he vented, a prisoner in her glowing bubble on the bed.

"Every step you took was guided by it, you never lost and found your way again by your own determintation or even random chance. You made friends of creatures that ignore every other runner!" he said accusingly.

"I did use my own determination," she said weakly, trying not to let her voice shake and let him see he might be right. "I didn't give up Toby for my dreams." Saying it made her remember it was true, and she felt a little surer. Her hands stopped trembling.

He only sneered at her, unable to deny it. But his voice was no less venemous in his next words. "You never should have had the chance to accept or refuse; you would never have made it there on your own."

"You don't know that!" She jumped to her feet to come at him and pitched forward on the overly soft bedding. With a cry she lost her concentration and her balance, the shielf dissolving into nothing as she fell over the edge. He caught her.

She expected him to tell her no one else had ever beaten him, but he didn't. Maybe he really didn't know if she had done it on her own, and that was what ate at him. She didn't care. As he lifted her chin with one hand she only wanted to lash out at him, hurt him back.

"That's not why you're angry," she mumbled.

He huffed at her. "You think I care that it's not fair? Perhaps I do."

She forced a smile, knowing it might be the last thing he'd ever see of her, since he just might kill her after she said what she intended to next.

"You're angry because I don't love you back."


	23. Chapter TwentyOne

_A/N: Thanks to those who REVIEWED! I hope the rest of you feel guilty! No, I'm kidding, I love you all--come back!!! *cries*_

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Whatever he'd expected her to say, it was not that.

Sarah was innocent. Sarah was niave. Sarah saw only black and white.

Sarah did not know he loved her.

If that's what this feeling was--he wouldn't know. He'd never felt it before.

He just stared at her, feeling like his worst secret, his ultimate weakness had been revealed.

Because it had.

.  
.

She watched, and waited, hoping to God she was right because it might save her, and scared to death she might be right because it might destroy her...

.  
.

Luck was once again in her favor, though, thank heavens. How nice of it to show up. She was awash in false confidence as she raised her eyes to meet his stony gaze. Inspiration had finally arrived--now that he was no longer distracting her with his touch, though he had a constrictor-like grip on her wrist. His hand under her chin fell away.

"If you want me, then I'm yours. IF," she stressed, "you win one last contest with me. Light against darkness. If you win, you get whatever you want. If you don't..." She faltered. It wasn't like she could get away from him...wait, yes she could! "Then you tell me how to break the connection between us."

.  
.

That sounded like the best and worst thing in the worlds right now, to break their magical bond. He was in shock, denial, despairing over losing his power over her, angry at the threat, and grateful she couldn't completely get away. This last thought restored him somewhat.

"And if I don't?" He made sure his tone was even and cool. "Perhaps I will just keep you anyway?" He did not confirm her belief that he loved her, but unfortunately didn't think to deny it either, caught up in bargaining with her.

He expected panic in her eyes, but to his complete surprise, she merely lowered her eyes in a slow, deliberate blink and gave him a little smile. "Do you want me to fight you forever?" she asked smoothly, completely unlike herself. It sounded as if she was offering him willing, resentment-free access to her body and heart if he won.

He let go of her, wondering if she'd been possessed when he was standing there in disbelief.

She swayed a little, reaching out for his arm, frowning and blushing a little.

No, it was still her.

'She's still herself,' he thought, relieved. Her offered prize seem to hang in the air between them, almost visible in his mind, tantalizing him. It was everything he'd lusted after ever since she had left him--the Labyrinth, that is. Yes, he would take it.

.  
.

She could see when the decision was made in his eyes, a little annoyed at how predictable males really were. Offer them no-strings-attatched sex and they were willing to be as inconvienced as a female wanted.

She put that thought aside. Where to battle? She didn't want him to pick some stronghold of his--ah.

She burst away from him, knowing he'd summon her, angry. She matched his call.

.  
.

Sarah burst into shards of light and he growled aloud. She was trying to escape from him! She'd remain with the bright one forever just to spite him. Angrily he called her back just as her voice echoed in his mind, and they were standing in that strange twilight place once more.

"So," he said easily, convering his unbalanced feeling. "We shall duel here." He wondered briefly what she had learned, then dismissed the worry; she would never be a match for him.

"Yes," she said uncertainly, looking around. She looked about ready to fall over. Too bad. She shouldn't have offered to battle in a physically weakened state.

"Shall we do it your way?" he said gallantly, bowing to her. "On the count of three..."

.  
.

_A/N: Well, Merry (insert holiday of choice here) everyone, here's your gift from me. __Three chapters at once! I don't know what came over me! It was rushed, so please forgive typos. And I know the last chapter skipped around with the pov's and wasn't very detailed, but I meant it to be like that. It sort of gives you a taste of how they're feeling: rushed, unsettled, unbalanced, and things just keep happening and all they can do is react, hardly getting a chance to think ahead let alone plan ahead...._

_.  
To my reviewers:_

_Jjellybean00--how's that for interaction? See, I do take my reviews into consideration. 'Cause I'm a nice author._

_Chaos Dragon-Fox--I know! Life was just totally killing my writing. I feel better now, thanks._

_HazlgrnLizzy--thank you dear!_

_CoffeeKris--*squee!* Awwww! I feel so loved! Okay, ouch! Hugging too tightly! Jareth, put her somewhere safe. Hey! That's YOUR bedroom, put her down!_

_Elliesmeow--yeah, they were a major pain in the butt. I'm glad you liked, and I hope you like some more. I have decided to skim over Court a bit, to keep the focus on Jareth and Sarah. Of course, first I have to find out who wins the duel..._

_Natsuko37--"but I do kinda feel better knowing my computer isn't as bad off as some." Haha, thanks. Yeah, it was slow last chapter, but it set up these new chapters quite nicely, no?_

_Reih--thanks for letting me know what you think, I have decided to stick with Sarah and Jareth. *smile*_

_Ginabella59--thanks!_


	24. Sad Goodbye to TLAG

To all my readers:

I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I'm discontinuing TLAG. I've totally lost my inspiration for it...though I have some ideas of where I want it to go, I can't seem to get it there. My other S/J fic, I WILL BE continuing.

**BUT!**

**I'm offering it to a fan to continue writing it.** If you would like to, please email me at morning (underscore) secret (at) yahoo (dot) com. Subject: TLAG CONTINUED. Tell me: your idea of how the plot should continue, how Sarah and Jareth's relationship will evolve and end, what happens to Linda, and how you think the battle between the light and dark will end. If I feel you are true to what I started, I will announce you as the continuing author and give you the story with all good will.

Thanks for reading, guys. It kills me to do this, b/c I've never given up on a story like this, but I've given it a lot of thought. I've tried to write for many months, and this is the one fic that will not cooperate. I've never had a fic give me this much trouble, no matter how stressed I am (and I have been, courtesy of family and medical drama). If this makes you not want to read my fics anymore, I understand. But in order to get this particular fic continued, it has to be given up, b/c I know I will not be able to do so myself.

Again, thanks to my reviewers, your words meant a lot to me! (hugs)

~Amanthya


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